#also sorry if this posts with weird spacing I’m on mobile

[kailysander]

I love seeing your Avalon characters!! Is there anything else we can learn abt them?

Thanks so much for asking! Avalon is a story very close to my heart and is honestly kind of the antithesis of Golden Hour. I don’t get to work on it often, so you’ll have to put up with some (very) old character art.

It can be a bit to bite off explanation wise due to it being scifi, so I did my best to make sure context was available for character descriptions:

Glossary:

Avalon- Name of the story, but also the name of a very technologically and ecologically advanced utopian city-state. They’re generally a closed off society, save for special exchange programs and the culture itself is based on the philosophy that you can learn intrapersonal empathy through your relationship with plants and nature (how to love and care for something that cannot speak or communicate directly to you). There’s a lot I can say here but the main thing is that some generations ago they handed their judicial system off to an AI/OS called Venus that now oversees nearly all aspects of their society. There are a lot of very interesting aspects to their societal structure but I won’t go listing em all out.

Avalonian- Someone who was born in and lives in Avalon. Genetically distinct variation of humans. Typically verdant or cerulean in complexion, Avalonians have been subject to genetic modification for many generations, at first as a way to better protect their bodies from residual radiation present in the area, and much later down the line for things like temperament/superficial aesthetics/etc., though genetic diversity is still very present, as it is understood to be beneficial and important. Typically, Avalonians have their genetic sequences picked out by Venus for the specific purpose of fulfilling a role in their society.

Venus- the AI/OS in question. Does not have a physical body for sometime, but may eventually have something similar to a large flower (as it is illegal in Avalon to construct AI that imitates a human person). As Avalonians do not have true parental figures do to being born of extracorporeal pregnancy (artificial womb), so Venus is often regarding as a mother figure.

Scena- Huge indoor city located in modern day Los Angeles. Ended up clinging to golden age film as a cultural identity, and has a very deco vibe about it. Steampunk without the steam, import economy reliant on what technology and recourse Avalon is willing to share. Typically non-Avalonians live here, and there are a lot of human-bodied AI running about as well, usually as household servants or entertainers.

Minervan- a person born in Avalon who exiled to live in one of the embassies/territories outside of Avalon itself. Typically they haven’t done anything heinous but a little bit of off-behavior in a very strict society + a review of their genetic code may show they have a propensity to. The less advanced OS in this society is named (you guessed it) Minerva, and they do not have a line of contact to Venus. Not considered to be Avalonian by Avalonian standards.

Characters of importance:

Laurel Leigh (she/her): an android originally from Scena that unlocked sentience & free will as result of a fluke injury to her CPU. Not having much of a schema between right & wrong, she often participates in whatever might offer a bit of camaraderie. Generally kind and enthusiastic, she retains an encyclopedic knowledge, though the contents of which is often inapplicable to the real world outside of a trivia competition.

Eli (He/him): Having run away from his city of origin as a teenager, Eli has lived in the highly hostile outskirts for some time now, and has learned to adapt to surviving in the extreme weather and pollution. Worry-prone and serious, he is often very protective of Laurel for her gullibility and vulnerable state, and is generally a bit suspicious of Avalon’s habit of hoarding resources and innovation for themselves. Generally a well meaning, if slightly blunt individual, he has a knack for getting others to question their own resolve and introspect a bit. He is highly intelligent and skilled in improvised engineering.

Solani Fusarium (they/them): The main character of the story, and the hardest to describe in short since their character goes through a lot of growth.

An Avalonian who works in agritech, specifically in the realms of meat cultivation & animal welfare. Very intelligent but can be a bit socially daft toward non-Avalonians in a way that can feel both patronizing and overly familiar, though does not harbor ill-intent beyond a bit of teasing.

They are ultimately the person who ends up playing hosting/playing ambassador to Eli and Laurel when they arrive as unexpected guests to Avalon. This rather leisurely stay not last terribly long as there is a general focus on getting them back out as they do not have visas, and Solani follows them out to Scena on a six-month exchange program after about a weeks time. Originally not seeing eye-to-eye, Eli and Solani grow much closer over this time, and all three of them become very tight knit (Solani and Laurel have always gotten along.)

Without giving away much, Solani breaks some Avalonian rules through good intention and is entirely exiled as an alternative to literally being executed

Not even allowed to live in a Minervan embassy, they are left in an odd state where they cannot really be defined as Avalonian or “human”, this experience of existing in between states and learning to redefine values outside of their formally very rigid structure mirroring Laurel’s situation. Solani, now aware of Venus/Avalon’s propensity for cruelty is now painfully aware of their own a concept that had never occurred to them. (Avalons are not cruel, therefore nothing I do can be cruel.)

They go to live in Scena and get a receptionist job at a company that manages railways. Generally, this period in their life is pretty tough for them, though they remain determined in the resolve to remain empathetic and ethical despite the bitterness and anger that grows in them. They begin to uncover what purpose they were born for.

The Ambassador (she/her): A nameless Avalonian known only as “The Ambassador” who is something of Avalon’s PM. Considered to be the direct interpreter and physical “body” of Venus before the actual body is constructed. Caring but strict, may come across cold. Also considered a mother figure.

Lesser characters:

Avium (he/him): Solani’s (former) partner. Seems to be a bit rebellious, but is in truth very status-quo.

Selah (he/him): A Minervan and Solani’s coworker, an engineer at the railway company. Becomes one of Solani’s closer friends, and often checks them in to the Embassy so Solani can be in a more familiar environment for periods of time. Seems to oscillate between being generous and selfish, has a habit of acting out of interest.

Tom (he/him): A [non-Avalonian] archivist and inventor that lives in a remote part of Avalon. He manages most of Avalon’s history, including parts that are not known to the general public and is the person set to invent Venus’ body.

Ada (she/her): Tom’s daughter. May not be human.

And ofc there’s much more minor cast as well, but no one I have pics of haha

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer (05) | jjk

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, crying, Sad Boy JK Hours ??, valentino!yoongi bc that should be a whole warning 🥵 even though he's there and not really there for literally 2 seconds lol

rating: PG-15

word count: 9.5k

note: this is the most stressed out i've ever been while trying to post a fic 💀 argh anyway, 2 obs updates in one month ?? is this even real life !! consider this a (lunar) new year's present from me to everyone who celebrates it and also to everyone who doesn't !! idk i'm bad at notes and i'm delirious so that's it 😗

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Hey, I feel like if we gave it one night You'd hate me less and make it alright Just wish that we could fight now I'd hold you on the comedown

Rockland - Gracie Abrams

One thing about you, is that you don’t do well with change.

After you moved out of the first apartment you got as an adult, you constantly went back to your old neighborhood even though it wasn’t close to your new place. You kept walking those familiar streets, kept shopping at the stores where the workers knew your name. At night, you still pictured yourself living there, with all of your furniture and clothes and decorations that you’ve already emptied from those old bones. Then, you imagined what the new tenant was like, if they could feel the lingering love you had for that apartment. You wondered if they were putting the coffee table you left behind to good use, or if they thought that it looked out of place among all of their belongings and had already thrown it away.

Jimin called you weird for that, but he didn’t know that you always leave a piece of yourself everywhere you go. The biggest pieces, you think, are hidden somewhere in a closet in your childhood bedroom where your mother still lives, and in the tiny space of your dorm room where you spent most of your college years.

It took you more than half a year to finally start considering your new apartment home. 

Because you hate change. Change is scary. Change is walking into a pitch-black tunnel with no flashlight, not knowing what awaits you in the darkness and not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side.

That isn’t to say that change is inherently bad. You’ve experienced good changes before. Arguably, Jungkook was a good change when he went from someone you couldn’t tolerate, to the love of your life back then. You were happy with him, so blissfully happy that for a while, you forgot what it was like to experience any other emotion.

Yoongi has always been your friend. It didn’t take you two very long to become well acquainted with one another and from there, develop a good friendship. You have never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Even when he was your boss, he still felt more like a friend.

As you sit next to him in a bar too empty for your liking – but seems right for a Tuesday night – you feel a palpable shift between the two of you.

When your phone vibrates with a notification, you glance at it only to exhale annoyedly – unclear whether this frustration is directed toward yourself, or the person blowing up your mobile; maybe it’s both. That’s the nth message that Jungkook has sent you in the last couple of hours, and you don’t need to read it to know that it’s probably another iteration of the same apology. How many different ways are there to say “Hey, I’m sorry for fucking the receptionist and then having the balls to tell you that you’re the unprofessional one when you didn’t even do anything.” Apparently a lot, because the texts just keep coming.  

“Jungkook again?” Yoongi asks from beside you. Fuck. You’ve mostly been silently moping since he brought you here, too enmeshed in your own web of muddled thoughts that you forgot he’s someone you need to make amends with too. 

You give him a nod but still continue to stare at the drink in front of you, trying to disentangle your Yoongi thoughts from your Jungkook ones. 

Taking a sip of your drink, your face manages to keep a grimace at bay as the liquid ambushes your tastebuds. You don’t like whiskey, but you need something to hate more than yourself tonight. When you set the glass down, the alcohol sloshes around like a compact sea of your own amber-colored miseries.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “This is unfair to you. I don’t know what came over me. I just want you to know that this isn’t me responding to…” To your confession.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say, then I have to stop you right now.”

“Yoongi…”

“I’m not saying that you can’t turn me down, although I hope you don’t do that,” he chuckles. “I’m just saying that whatever you do, whether you give me a chance or reject me, I want you to decide after you’ve really thought about it, about me.”

You can’t say no to that; it’s only fair. Yoongi knows what he deserves. You haven’t looked at him in any other way, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t. Didn’t you say it yourself, that maybe you should start putting yourself out there? Well, here is someone coming to you before you even have to look anywhere. You may not have expected Yoongi, but then, you didn’t expect Jungkook either.

Yoongi could be the good change you need.

Nevertheless, you want to tell him you’re sorry for the other night. It should be fairly simple, but the words have a hard time dislodging themselves from your throat.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night at dinner… and what I did…”

Yoongi props an elbow on the bar top and leans forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Remind me what it is that you did again?”

“Come on, I’m serious.” You are grateful that he’s trying to keep it light, though.

“I’m serious too. I seem to have forgotten.”

“Yoongi…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh, shutting your eyes momentarily. Recalling the moment makes you flush with embarrassment, bringing a splash of color to your cheeks which Yoongi always seems to enjoy.

In a quiet voice, you say, “I’m sorry for throwing salt at you…”

“You threw salt at me!” He tips his head back, laughing freely. The bartender spares you two a glance at the sudden disruption. “You shouldn’t go around throwing salt at people!”

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to apologize.” You punch his arm out of habit and for a second there, you forget that your relationship with Yoongi isn’t the same anymore. Changed forever.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Jeez, why are you so violent?” He rubs the spot where you hit him, muttering under his breath something about him bruising like a peach. “Apology accepted. No hard feelings.”

“Okay, good. But I still want you to know that if you were expecting anything from tonight…”

Yoongi ruffles your hair with a scoff. “I’m not that dense. Of course I’m not expecting anything.” When you peer at him with curious and unsure eyes, he continues, “Y/N, earlier you looked like you wanted to set the place on fire and Jungkook looked like he was about to shit himself. Tonight, I’m just a friend who’s here for you if you want to vent. We’re just two buddies having a drink, that’s all.”

He makes it sound so simple, while your brain is already going haywire.

Despite yourself, you chuckle at his words. You tell him how much you appreciate it, though you don’t really tell him anything about what happened this afternoon, just that Jungkook said some stuff that pissed you off. You can’t tell him exactly what Jungkook did to anger you without alluding to the confession for which Yoongi is letting you off the hook for now.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

“Come with you where?”

“I have a shoot with Valentino in the morning.”

“You have a photoshoot not even 12 hours from now and you’re here drinking? Aren’t you gonna wake up puffy or something?”

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if she knows what I’m doing,” he replies casually, like his manager has a telepathic connection with him and she can sense him mocking her over a drink. When people see Agust D, they tend to only see the icy exterior that he dons. That tough, maybe even callous, image has sustained him in the entertainment industry for years. For many, Agust D seems intimidating and unapproachable. That’s how you felt when you first met him too. But after a while, you got to see Min Yoongi, and Min Yoongi is nothing if not warm and tender-hearted, even if he’s a little shit sometimes. At least, that’s what he has always been like to you. “She thinks I’m getting my beauty sleep right now.”

You lightly snort at that, telling him, “Yeah, you need it.”

When you start to yawn, Yoongi calls a driver to drop you off at your place. The ride is mostly silent, because you’re tired and because you’re not sure what to say to Yoongi in the presence of a stranger taking you home. The car pulls up to your building soon enough, and before you can step out and tell him goodnight, he offers to walk you up. He takes the elevator with you to your floor, how gallant but unnecessary. When you reach your door, you wonder whether you should invite him in for a glass of water or something. If this was a week – or even just a couple of days – earlier, you would’ve had no reason to hesitate.  He doesn’t ask if he can come in but instead takes one of your hands.

“I see you’ve been giving yourself some TLC. They’re a lot better now,” he comments, smoothing his thumb over your skin. You’ve been diligent with your hand care routine since he gave you that lotion. It feels nice, and it smells amazing. Besides, your hands were starting to hurt anyway.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you become aware of Yoongi touching you, and the weight of the answer you’ve yet to give him. He must feel you stiffen, because he lets you go and smiles.

“Relax, princess. Get some sleep, you’re the one who needs it. I said I’ll let you think about it, didn’t I? Stop stressing so much.” His index finger taps your cheek playfully, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The wink that he tacks on makes you roll your eyes. You watch Yoongi make his way to the elevator, step in and press the button for the ground floor. He maintains eye contact with you as he waits for the doors to shut, and you don’t think you’ve really noticed before how Yoongi carries himself with such confidence and poise even when he’s off-camera. That’s just the kind of person he is and it’s… kind of attractive.

You can’t even fish around in your bag for your keys, you just stand there because he keeps your gaze trained on him. His eyes are alluring even under the shitty lighting of your building’s elevator. Before the lift closes, his voice carries over from the metal box to your door, and you don’t know if it’s the echo of his low timbre in the empty hallway that makes you shiver, or if it’s just Yoongi.

“I’ve waited this long, what’s a little more time?”

One week. This is a record for you and Taehyung.

You’re still baffled by his attitude that night, and no one has cleared anything up for you. He was right, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong. You stand by your initial reaction. Could anyone really blame you for that? In your defense, who the fuck could believe that a worldclass megastar has romantic feelings for them? Not to mention that the person whom the megastar in question has feelings for is you! You, the pathetic girl who can’t seem to get over her ex. Yoongi had to sit through a whole hour of you drunkenly crying over Jungkook, for fuck’s sake!

That really wasn’t your best moment, but it’s not like you even remember it anyway.

Your phone buzzes to life with Jimin’s face taking over the whole screen – a photo of your hand squishing his full cheeks until his lips jut out. “Hey Minnie,” you greet him once you’ve swiped to accept the call.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Where are you? Are you doing pull-ups again? You know you practically hyperventilate when you do more than 3.”

“Shut up, I’m at dance practice. But listen, have you talked to Tae yet?”

You purse your lips at the mention of his name. “No. We’re supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow like we always do, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

Jimin hums, like he’s in thought. He doesn’t speak again until his breathing has calmed. “Well, can you go to his place right now?”

“Why?”

“He’s sick and I’m kind of worried about him. He hasn’t answered my messages.”

You frown. “Tae’s sick?”

“Yeah, he must’ve caught a cold the other day. Could you go over there and check on him? I would go but I can’t leave for another few hours.”

You agree to go, because of course you would. Even if you’re stubborn and hot-headed, no amount of pettiness could make you ignore your friends especially when they’re unwell and need somebody. Especially when it’s Taehyung who’s been there for you so many times.

You stay on the call with Jimin for another ten whole minutes even after you have said you would go, because he keeps droning on and on about how shitty Taehyung looked yesterday.

Before you go to your best friend’s apartment, you stop by your regular diner to pick up some comfort food for him, and the pharmacy for some medicine. During the rest of the drive there, you start getting a little worried. When Taehyung takes care of a sick you or Jimin, he practically goes into full mama bear mode, making sure that you’re as comfortable as humanly possible and not leaving your side until you’re a functional human being again. But when it comes to his own wellbeing, Taehyung doesn’t seem to be that concerned. It’s not that he neglects his health, but you wish that he would show himself the same kindness that he shows you.

It feels weird to use the spare key that you have to his place, considering that you aren’t really on speaking terms. In hindsight, it feels so childish. How old are you to still be pulling the silent treatment on each other? 

You ring the doorbell and wait a couple minutes until you hear Taehyung shuffling to get the door from the other side. When it swings open, he tenses up a bit, not expecting to see you at all. His hair is damp; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. Taehyung doesn’t look as bad as Jimin described though. Just some dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a hand and wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he parrots somewhat awkwardly. It’s understandable; neither of you thought you’d be the one to break the ice. “What are you doing here?”

Bringing your other hand up, you show him the bag you’re holding. “Brought you soup and cold meds. Jimin said you’re sick.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Thanks…” he says slowly, “but I’m not sick?”

“But Jimin said you caught a cold and you’ve been wheezing like a dying fisherman and–” You purse your lips, catching onto what’s really happening here. “He tricked me, didn’t he?”

Park Jimin…

Taehyung tuts under his breath, shaking his head at the ground. “Mhmm.”

“He could go into acting. He sounded really worried on the phone, like you were on the verge of death.”

“No, yeah, he really could,” Taehyung agrees. “Jimin is bizarrely good at lying sometimes. We should be worried about that.”

You laugh, and that makes him feel like the air is relaxed enough for him to laugh too. It only lasts a few seconds before you’re left staring at each other again. You hate it. You really, really hate it.

You thought that the universe sent you a sign, gave you a reason to come over and make nice with your best friend. Turns out that “the universe” is really just Park Jimin and his scheming tongue. But you’re already here, and you have to talk to him eventually. Jimin might have lied, but you would’ve just waited for Taehyung to reach out first to offer an olive branch anyway.

“Well, can I come in?” you ask. It’s weird that you even have to ask.

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, stepping to one side to let you in. He takes the bag from your hand and brings it to the kitchen while you kick off your shoes and change into the pair of fuzzy bear slippers that he keeps for you here.

You want to tell him what happened as much as you hate admitting that you were wrong.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, a sad attempt at delaying what will inevitably come.

“No,” comes his simple reply.

“Should we eat? I bought enough for two people.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to eat chicken noodle soup.”

Taehyung looks at you like the thought has genuinely never crossed his mind. “Interesting… Okay, then.”

You put on an episode of your favorite show while he heats up the food. When you both sit down to eat, it’s mostly silent while the TV continues to play. The most you and Taehyung thing that you exchange in these 30 minutes is him saying soup tastes like shit when you’re not actually sick, and you telling him to stop being such a hater. When you both finish, Taehyung rinses the bowls and puts them in his dishwasher. 

Before you came over, you thought you would only be making him eat, take his meds, and sit there for a bit while he sleeps. If you had known this would happen, you would’ve prepared yourself for it.

But then again, you were tricked into coming.

Ugh. Just do it. You are so freaking dramatic.

“Well,” you start, keeping your voice light and trying not to stand around like you’re out of place in his apartment, “you were right.”

“About what?” Taehyung asks, wiping his hands on a towel. 

“About Yoongi and… all that.”

“Oh.” His expression is one you aren’t too familiar with. There’s surprise – yes, that you’re making peace with him – in the way his brows slightly lift, but there’s something else too. Something odd that you can’t quite put a finger on, and it makes you slightly uneasy because you don’t like it when you can’t read Taehyung. 

He’s pretty quick to mask it, and it makes you even more conscious that there’s something he isn’t telling you. Of course, this feeling is miniscule, practically a seed compared to the blooming garden of nerves that the events of these past few days have dumped upon you, so you can’t categorize it as a high-level priority to nitpick. You need to deal with your main concerns first, aka what to do about Yoongi and Jungkook, both individually and together, and then you can begin to inspect what’s going on with Taehyung.

It all sounds so easy in theory.

Taehyung goes to the couch and you wordlessly follow. You sit down when he pats the spot next to him – your spot. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asks. “You know I don’t get to hear you tell me I’m right very often.”

Because you aren’t right very often, is what you almost say. It’s light and playful, and you both know it would diffuse the leftover tension, but you chuck the words aside in favor of something more serious. There isn’t that much to catch him up on, but there is a lot to unpack from the few things that did transpire over the last few days.

You give him a recap of what happened with Yoongi and subsequently what happened with Jungkook. Those are the two things weighing the most on your mind. You haven’t really processed anything; blame it on Yoongi for telling you that you have time to think things through.

One thing you love about Taehyung is that he doesn’t tell you what to do, but rather helps you sort things out on your own. Come to think of it, these conversations often take place on his couch. He’s like your own personal therapist at this point.

“Can you give me a hug?” You probably can’t ask a licensed therapist to do this, though.

He softens even more with a smile. Opening his arms, he says, “C’mere.”

You shuffle over to sink into his embrace. You sigh as you practically melt in his hold. Taehyung is a little bony, but hugging him feels exactly like hugging a giant teddy bear. He’s soft, and always knows how to hold you just tight enough, how to stroke your hair the way you like, how to be just the comforting presence you need amidst a whirlwind of anxious thoughts. And he smells like jasmine, though that might be because you keep deliberately gifting him colognes with scents that you like.

With your chin perched on his shoulder, you feel yourself start to relax, walls coming down if only briefly.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks after a moment.

You’re suddenly aware that you’re crying. You don’t know how it started, but now that the waterworks have begun, it seems like there’s no stopping. “No,” you sniffle. “Can I just…”

You feel him exhale. “Of course.”

Taehyung is one of the few people – oh who are you kidding? He might be the only one – whom you feel comfortable enough around to let yourself cry to your heart’s content. 

You’ve been feeling it for days now, even before all that shit happened. Every cell in your body is constantly vibrating, with anxiety, with guilt, with a heaviness that sinks into your bones. You’re shaking even when your hands are perfectly still. People, memories, thoughts you keep only to yourself – they all phase through you, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

When it rains, it pours.

Everything is weighing you down like someone has tied you to an anchor and pushed you into the unrelenting, unforgiving water. Grief is an ocean and you don’t know how to swim. Your job, your friends, the unbridled mess that you call a love life… Everything is changing and you’re the same. You’re different, but somehow still the same. Deep down, you’re still that scared little girl who doesn’t know what to make of the world. Your knees are bleeding but your mother is telling you not to cry. Why can’t you cry when you’re hurting? Every minute feels like a lifetime but every day feels like it’s going by in two seconds. Things are moving so fast. Things are moving too slow. You can’t remember the last time you actually cried. Really cried. Bawled. Sobbed. Let out all the dirt until you can see your roots again. Until you originate back to being a blank canvas. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only way that can help you see things more clearly. Your vision might blur for a while but afterward, it’ll have washed everything away. At least a little bit. So you can get your footing again.

You miss clarity, or the illusion that you have any control over your life. You miss looking out the window and have something to look forward to, even on overcast days where the sun can’t be bothered to bring you light. You miss hearing your heart beat a melody that doesn’t ache, doesn’t rattle you to the core. Pieces of you have been held together by nothing but tape and glue for the longest time. Eventually, they’ll deteriorate, and you’ll go back to being skin and bones always on the verge of falling apart.

Some of your best writing was never meant for anybody to hear. The best lines that you’ve scribbled down are diary entries disguised as music, as poetry. They’re results of your lowest and weakest moments, it just happens that there was a journal lying around and you thought that if you had to keep all that sadness inside for a second longer, you would burst. Those immortalized lines represent your heartbreak, your self-hatred, your sorrow and your grief. They come from a lifetime of unshed tears, from the burden of having a heart that feels too much but is always silenced. Words are your escape when time rushes through you like a child skipping stones. Everything hurts all the time but no one knows and you don’t bother explaining to anyone how you wish you could be a different person living a different life because it seems like the universe has made a mistake with this one. How it feels like a divine power has miscalculated and misread your false stoicism as resilience. Just because a person carries it well doesn’t mean they have to carry it at all. 

Sometimes you like to muse that if anyone could catch a glimpse of what it’s like inside, they’d think, Wow. How are you holding all of that weight? How are you so silent through it all? How do you live with an ache so allconsuming that I can hardly see you underneath it?

It’s the only way you know how to express yourself. But even then, when you’re screaming and burning, you’re still quiet. Those words are your heart on paper, raw and bleeding all over the place, covered in a million cracks that no one can see or even pay enough attention to notice. They’re there whether anybody likes it or not. They’re right there, red ink staining white pages, begging in a voice small like a child asking for love. Please see me. I’m here. Nobody taught me how to swim. Please see me.

But nobody does. They walk past you every day. They sit with you, smile at you and laugh with you. They leave you. They stay. They break your heart. Even when they love you, nobody sees you.

You love Taehyung, but you don’t think he understands. He knows you better than almost everyone in this world and he tries to help you in any way he can, but at the end of the day, maybe this isn’t something that a person can understand even if they want to. It’s worse, to realize that perhaps it isn’t because people don’t care enough to see it, but that no matter how hard they try, they can’t.

The only person who has ever come the closest is Jungkook, with his big doe eyes that always see through you and see into you. Sometimes, you think there might be parts of you that he could see but you still don’t. He knew things about yourself that you never want anybody to find out, and he loved you anyway. He went the lengths that nobody ever did because they all gave up after a while. Someone once told you that you felt like a fortress wall impossible to climb, that nobody had the time, the patience to wait for you. In other words, you weren’t worth it. Not worthless, just not worth the effort it would take to break down your walls.

But Jungkook showed up and tried, every day. The one person that you never saw coming. You might have resisted at first, but then you became his biggest supporter. You were rooting for him to know you, how fucked up is that? You were right there. He was so close.

And then he stopped.

You suppose that’s what makes everything awful now – to know that you should let go of him when he’s the only person who ever came that close.

You don’t know how long Taehyung has had to sit here, comforting you like this, but at one point, your stomach starts growling and you feel your best friend trying to hold back a giggle. Jungkook might have mastered the art of loving you, but Taehyung is an expert at comforting you.

“Shut up.” You wipe away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand and push Taehyung off. “Crying makes me hungry.”

“Should I order us fried chicken then?”

“And soju. Get some soju too.”

Jimin is a strategic trickster. There was no dance practice. He just ran around his apartment ten times until his breathing turned ragged, which if you ask anyone, was completely unnecessary. He’s very extra, but at least it was effective.

After he got off the phone with you, Jimin immediately went to your shared phone tracker app – today was one of those times where it proves to be the most useful. He stared at the little circle with a silly photo of you as it moved from your address to Taehyung’s with a couple pit stops along the way. Jimin giggled to himself when he saw your circle meet Taehyung’s, because at that point you two must have realized already that you’d been swindled. Of course, there was always a chance of you leaving the moment you figured out you had come all that way for no reason at all, but when Jimin saw after a couple of hours that the two circles are still next to each other, he knew that you and Taehyung made up already.

Jimin sends a message to your group chat, a simple hello but Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. The text thread shared by the three of you lights up with a selfie of you and Taehyung each holding a chicken drumstick and wearing a content smile. In the background, there are some soju bottles, a box of chicken and some fries.

Jimin doesn’t question why your eyes look a little puffier than usual. He just replies with a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. The triumph of his mini victory almost makes him forget that there’s someone else in his home.

Jungkook peeks over Jimin’s shoulder to peek at his phone, curious to see what’s making his friend so delighted. When he sees you and Taehyung on Jimin’s screen, he sinks again, heart sitting in the pit of his stomach. The words you told him just the day before ring loud in his ears, as if they haven’t been stuck on his mind, playing on a loop. 

You’re such a fucking hypocrite.

You weren’t wrong, but man, did that feel like a punch in the gut.

He goes to sit across from Jimin, taking note of every single sound that notifies his friend of a new message. For the first time, he feels like an outsider, like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“I fucked up,” Jungkook admits quietly, cracking open a can of beer and taking a long sip. It makes Jimin look up and put away his phone. “With Y/N,” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yeah, I’ve been informed. That was the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.”

“In a while? When was the last time I did something stupid?”

Jimin doesn’t even have to think about it. He answers right away, “When you left her.”

Jungkook hums, unclear whether the noise is meant in agreement or just in acknowledgment. His tongue darts out to swipe across his dry lips before he breathes out. “I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“From what I’ve been told, you were a fucking asshole,” Jimin says lightly, his words emphasized with a chuckle like he finds Jungkook’s predicament so funny. “I can’t believe you would say that shit about Yoongi to her right after he confessed.”

Cue a pregnant pause, and a pair of doe eyes staring right into Jimin’s skull, unable to decipher if what he’s hearing is a joke or not.

“Yoongi– what?”

Jimin slaps himself internally. Shit. It slipped, he swears. “Nothing,” he sighs, but he knows it wouldn’t be dropped so easily.

“No. Not nothing,” Jungkook sits up straight and puts his chilled beer down on the table, missing the coaster entirely just to piss off his friend. “The fuck do you mean Yoongi confessed? Confessed what?”

Jimin sighs with pursed lips. “What else? What do you think he confessed to?”

Jungkook gulps, and blinks a few times. When? Why? Was that the reason you looked so distraught yesterday before all that shit went down between you and him? Who confesses to someone in a freaking break room?

Then Jungkook remembers that you and Yoongi went out for drinks last night. What did he say? What did you say? His stomach churns at the thought of something… happening between the two of you.

Jimin takes in his friend’s dumbfounded expression. “Why are you shocked?” he asks. “I thought you expected something like this. Isn’t it why you spewed all that crap about Yoongi flirting with her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels like the guy is out to get me for some goddamn reason. I thought he was just playing with Y/N to piss me off!”

Jimin shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Yoongi wouldn’t do that to her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because when they first worked together, from the things that she told us, the stuff that Yoongi would do for her, Taehyung and I thought he liked her back then too,” Jimin says. “This has nothing to do with you.”

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

“Should I go over there?” Jungkook asks, a newfound sense of urgency in his voice that borderlines panic. He’s acting like this fact that Jimin just dumped upon him is unraveling just as this conversation is taking place, but in reality, he’s one of the last people to know. 

“And tell her what? If you’ve said sorry a million times and she hasn’t responded, then saying it one more time won’t change anything.”

“What am I supposed to do when I see her tomorrow?”

“Nothing? Are you incapable of leaving things alone? If she wants to ignore you, let her ignore you. If she wants to yell at you, let her yell at you. If she wants nothing to do with you, let her do that too. Why do you keep making things worse for yourself?”

Jungkook runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “So your solution is for me to just let her hate me?”

Jimin levels him with a look, which just annoys him even more. “You had no problem with that before.”

“If you’re not gonna help me, should I ask Taehyung then?”

“Don’t go to Tae about this.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t,” Jimin snaps, and it makes Jungkook falter for a few seconds before the petulance in him clouds his better judgment.

“Why? He’s her best friend. They’re practically joined at the hip. He’s gotta be able to help me with this.”

“You really want to go to Taehyung for advice on how to suck up to your ex-girlfriend? He’s the most protective of her. What makes you think he would be willing to help you?”

“He’s my friend too, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he want to help all of us be civil with each other?”

“Yeah, he’s your friend. I’m your friend and Y/N’s too. And you’re right, all of us should get along, but we shouldn’t be put in a situation where we’d have to try. You did that to us and nothing is going to be the same again. I don’t even know why you did it. You kept your mouth shut for years no matter how hard me and Taehyung tried to get it out of you. Now you suddenly can’t make peace with the consequences of your actions? Now you want us to help you win over the person you fucked over, who is also our closest friend? I don’t get you, JK. I’m starting to regret not letting Taehyung punch you back then.”

Jungkook stares at his friend. Is this shock that he’s feeling? He still remembers that night, because he doesn’t forget a lot of things. He can’t forget it. He had never seen Taehyung – who is usually so calm and cordial – get that angry before. His friend, who is a saint of a man, felt so much rage toward Jungkook that Jimin had to physically hold him back.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks. “You’re not used to me not being on your side all the time?”

He knows that. The only person who seems to be on Jungkook’s side is himself, and sometimes he isn’t sure if this is even true at all. What you told him at the dance studio’s opening party, what Jimin is telling him now, and even the things that Taehyung shouted at him a couple of years back – it’s all true. He knows these things already, but it feels different to hear them from other people. You’re all right; nobody is overreacting. To an outsider, it might come across as harsh, but to anyone who knows anything, it’s rightfully deserved.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admits quietly, “Actually, yeah.”

Jimin sighs, because he knows that his friend has no malicious intent toward you or toward anyone. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean to hurt you, any more than he already has. Jungkook is even more crazed now that Yoongi is somehow a factor in all of this. It’s the insecurities bubbling at the surface. He’s panicking and he can’t even see straight. This is just his own stupid take on fight or flight. It was flight for a while, and now apparently it’s not. Jimin doesn’t really understand it, but he gets that this is his friend’s way of dealing with shit. “I tried, man. I did. But it’s really, really hard to have your back on this.”

Jungkook is well aware of it too – that to leave you alone is probably the best thing he can do at this point. Everything he says or does seems to backfire; instead of pulling you closer, all he manages to do is push you further away and make you hate him more than you already do. 

But in a way, isn’t that a good thing? Better to have you hate him than be indifferent toward him. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate. You yourself blurred this line long ago. You can do it again, can’t you?

Jungkook sits there for a while longer to finish his beer, even though he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s clear what Jimin’s stance on this is, and no matter what he says, it’s unlikely that anyone will help him try and get back in your good graces. 

Before he leaves, Jimin says something that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to fucking cry and kick something and speed over to your apartment just so you could reassure Jungkook that he’s still the one you hate the most. That all of your feelings, whether they’re good or bad, are still reserved for him and only him.

It isn’t what his best friend should tell him, but it’s what a good friend would say. It's not about Jungkook, it's not about Jimin or Taehyung or anyone else. It's about you, who has been hurt the most here.

“If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too.”

[10:48] Yoongi: Attachment: 2 Images.

[10:49] Yoongi: got yelled at for showing up puffy yesterday

You tap on the notifications and the photos pop up within seconds. It’s Yoongi at his Valentino shoot probably. He never used to send you stuff like this, nor asked you to come watch him at his photoshoots. Why would he? 

You zoom in on his face to inspect if he really was puffy, but you can’t really tell. Maybe if you were a makeup artist with a sharper eye, you would see it. But under your regular-person gaze, everything seemed fine. Yoongi looked handsome in the pictures.

[10:55] You: you don’t look puffy to me

[10:57] Yoongi: so how do i look to you? ;)

[10:58] You: the fits look good

[11:01] Yoongi: i wasn’t asking about the fits

[11:05] You: and i’m telling you the fits look good anyway

[11:07] Yoongi: what about the model?

[11:10] You: are you fishing for compliments?

[11:11] Yoongi: what if i am?

[11:14] You: the model looks Not Puffy

[11:16] Yoongi: you’re no fun ;(

You consider your next reply for a moment. It doesn’t seem like that big a deal. You want to send it. It seems innocent enough, and it’s the truth. A simple praise can’t hurt, right?

Your fingertips tingle just typing the words out. You’re suddenly so jittery for some reason as your thumb hovers over the arrow symbol that would whoosh away your message. It's a good kind of jittery. You might even say that you’re excited.

[11:22] You: the model looks good too

You put your phone face-down on the table, not even checking when it vibrates with Yoongi’s response to your latest text. It’s so weird that you’re feeling like this, maybe because it’s been so long since someone has shown an actual interest in you? Or is it because it’s Yoongi? If it were anyone else, would you still react the same?

It’s weird, but not necessarily weird in a bad way. You just aren’t used to it, or it’s been such a long time that you forgot what it feels like to be… wanted? You don’t think about it often but it’s true, you’ve missed the thrill of being chased.

“So… word on the street is you have a secret song.”

Seokjin’s voice makes you glance up, wondering who he could be talking to when the only people in the room beside him are you and Jungkook – whom you haven’t spoken a word to all morning despite him glancing not-so-subtly at you every two seconds. When you got here this morning, there was already a chai latte on the table with your name on it. The order was too specific for it to be Seokjin, but you didn’t say anything.

“The street?” you ponder for a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Is that what Yoongi calls himself these days? He’s been here for what? A couple weeks? And he’s already blabbed to you.”

“So it’s true?” Seokjin leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yoongi said it’s real good. Top shelf kinda stuff. And you know he never says things like that.”

It’s not a song, or at least that isn’t what you would call it. Maybe more like an essay composed of sentences that go together like misfit puzzle pieces. You don’t think you would ever rework it and pitch it to anyone because it’s yours and it’s personal. You would never tell anyone about it, and Yoongi wouldn’t have come to know about its existence if he hadn’t stumbled across it in your journal by accident.

“Don’t listen to Yoongi,” you say. “At this point, I feel like you should know that Yoongi tends to exaggerate sometimes.”

“He never seems to be exaggerating when it comes to you,” Seokjin muses. You almost blush, thinking about what else Yoongi could’ve told Seokjin. He doesn’t notice the split second in which your cheeks redden just the slightest, or he doesn’t mind it enough to comment. “What’s the title?”

You shrug, saying nothing.

“You can’t even tell me the title? Damn, Y/N. Are you the CIA?”

“I’m not telling you because there is no title. There’s not even a song, just something I go back to sometimes. It’s mostly just word vomit. I promise you, it’s nothing.”

“Tell that to Yoongi. He told me whoever’s gonna get that song is one hell of a lucky bastard.”

Again, what is it with the praise? You know working with Yoongi and being associated with his last album gave your career a boost, but you weren’t aware that he was talking about you with other people. Maybe he only does it with Seokjin because they’re close, but still, it makes you itch with curiosity.

“By any chance are you gonna give it to… me?” Seokjin asks, and seems to immediately hear how flawed it sounds. You stare at him blankly, trying to bite back an amused smile, and even Jungkook turns his head to look too. Seokjin’s ears turn red in an instant. “Okay, that came out kinda wrong. I’m really, really sorry. But you know what I mean.”

You continue to stare at him until his face is so flushed, you swear he’s like a tomato that’s about to burst. You can see why Yoongi likes to tease people this way. “Okay, boss,” you acquiesce with a laugh, relieving Seokjin of the fear that he genuinely offended you. “If the song ever gets to see the light of day, I’ll make sure to ask you to lend your voice.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a song.” He grins brightly at your empty promise, making you roll your eyes half-heartedly. He goes back to his normal shade in a minute, no longer ridiculously red like a cartoon character. “What’s it about?”

You ponder his question silently, missing the way Jungkook takes this moment to glance at you. When you look up again, he’s already averting his gaze.

What is it about? That’s a question that you yourself have never really considered. It’s about everything and it’s about nothing. It’s love, it’s loss, it’s the infinite in-between. You give Seokjin an answer that won’t satisfy him, but it’s the truth.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He tuts at you, like he was expecting the obscurity from you anyway. “You’re really not beating the CIA allegations,” he says.

You flip him the bird, which only compels him to stick out his tongue and make a face at you. Then, he diverts his attention to the person who hasn’t contributed anything this whole time.

“JK, why are you so quiet today? We’re not gonna eat you.”

Jungkook mutters something to Seokjin that you don’t quite catch because the words come out of his mouth like an inarticulate mess, which is so unlike him. He sounds jumpy, like he’s too nervous to speak in front of you. Seokjin’s eyes land on you again as he mouths a confused What?

You just shrug, and Seokjin has to take Jungkook’s weird response as him having an off day. The man checks his phone, lets out a quiet whine, then addresses the both of you. “I have a shoot this afternoon so you two will have to hold down the fort, by the way.”

You come back from your solo lunch date to an empty studio.

Well, almost empty. There’s something new that wasn’t there before.

Another chai latte waiting for you equates to another apology hoping to be acknowledged. The paper cup is still hot when your hand reaches out to touch it. You sink into your chair with a sigh. You could laugh at yourself for feeling so nostalgic at the sight of a beverage in the middle of a workday.

Jungkook walks in about 15 minutes later, and the air turns suffocating at his arrival. He feels it too, you know he does. 

You chew on your bottom lip until it starts to hurt, bite down on it until it almost bleeds.

“Jungkook,” you say, catching his attention. It looks like he didn’t expect you to initiate any conversation. It’s not like you want to, but you have to. You keep having to do this, because he just wouldn’t listen. “Stop buying me drinks.”

It translates to: Stop saying sorry. Stop trying to make things right. Stop doing things you think would make me happy. Stop making me have the same argument with you over and over again.

“Because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says, and proceeds to repeat the one thing that you’re sick of hearing from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you verbalize it. “If it’s not about work, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to hear it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You do need to hear it. Because I can’t function properly until you know how sorry I am.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Hear me out,” he says, sounding a little firmer now but you still catch the crack in his voice. “Please.”

Jungkook must take the way you hesitate to shut down him as reluctant permission for him to keep going, because he stands up and moves to a spot closer to you. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but enough for you to see the tiny mole under his bottom lip and how it quivers when he looks at you.

Fuck. You’re letting him win again.

“Okay, fine. Talk then. I’m listening. You’re sorry, right? You keep saying you’re sorry for everything, but what exactly is everything? What are you even sorry about? Are you sorry about annoying me right now, or are you sorry about being a prick the other day, or are you sorry about leaving me five years ago? When did you become this pathetic, Jungkook?”

“W–what?”

“When did you become so pathetic?” you repeat. “If you had to come back, couldn’t you come back as someone better? Someone who’s sure of himself and has a good life, not this… person who has to grovel at my feet for forgiveness. Even when you were at your lowest, you weren’t like this. I don’t even know who this Jungkook is. What happened to you?”

If you think that you saw him at his lowest, then you’re wrong. He didn’t hit rock bottom until he’d left you and had to live with what he chose to do. 

“You’re right. I am pathetic,” Jungkook agrees, dropping his gaze to the floor like he’s ashamed. “But fuck, I’m trying to be worthy of you.”

It’s a truth that he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit how very real it is until you’ve just said it and it fucking guts him. He knows his friends pity him sometimes, even if they don’t want to view him as someone to be pitied. No matter how much of a front he puts up, he knows that Jimin and Taehyung see right through him. They won’t say it to his face, and for that Jungkook has gotten away with avoiding this fact for so long. But to hear it from you, to watch you spell it out for him, it hurts.

He wants to mention Yoongi, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t immediately aggravate you. After all, bringing up Yoongi is what got him into this mess, isn’t it?

Regardless, he wants to ask you a question that he already knows the answer to. What does Yoongi have that he doesn’t? The answer is: A lot of things. Yoongi has a lot of things that Jungkook doesn’t, one of them being the self-assurance to not run away when it comes to you and what you deserve.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he’s scared it might drive you right into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook can’t compete with a man like that.

He can barely keep up even with just himself in the running.

There’s a big question mark that pops up in your head, along with a slight sting in your eyes that you blink away. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this before. This whole time, was it not only you who was miserable?

He looks so small that it breaks your heart. For once, you aren’t sad for yourself but you’re sad for him. It never occurred to you that he could’ve been lonely too, having to keep all of this inside because you know he didn’t share it with anyone else. You catch a glimpse of him again, like you did when you were making ramen together in your kitchen while a storm was raging outside. In a lot of ways, Jungkook is still that kid stuck in an adult’s body, lost and scared and loved you. It feels like you could’ve seen him in the same ocean while you were just trying to keep your head above water.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and astray, placates you. Your resolve crumbles, but not like it was ever that strong to begin with. You suppose you could see why he was being a jerk to you. Even though it doesn’t justify what he said, you understand just a little bit where he was coming from. You find yourself forgiving him for some of it. It’s part of letting things go, right?

But no matter how much you want to reach out and comfort him, you know you shouldn’t. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You’re confused and it feels like you two have been going around in a circle, looking for a solution that doesn’t seem to exist.

Coexisting doesn’t work. Telling him to leave things alone doesn’t work. What else can you do?

Why do you have to resolve a problem that isn’t even yours? Jungkook says he’s trying, but his efforts keep making your life harder and harder. You practically blew up in his face, then apologized for being harsh even though you were fully aware that you had nothing to be sorry for. You called him a hypocrite and now you’re ready to cave just because he’s on the verge of shedding a few tears. This constant back and forth between your anger and your reluctance to see that anger through is possibly the thing that’s hindering you.

You can’t – and shouldn’t – accommodate him anymore. You have to put your foot down, no matter how difficult it is with the lingering ghost of your past love.

Because you’re always weak when it comes to Jungkook.

Because you’re still holding onto something.

Because Jungkook will always be the first person that you have ever loved, and those four years meant a lot to you even if they didn’t to him. Maybe it’s even fair to say that you might never truly get over it, and that doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing. Maybe he was never the person you thought he was, or maybe you never meant as much to him as he did to you. Somehow, that’s okay. It’s manageable because it’s routine at this point. You’ve internalized it. The years have taught you that sometimes, things get shitty just because they can and you just have to deal with it.

The intrinsic pain of the human experience. C’est la vie.

What a world this is.

Is it bad that you’re thinking about Yoongi in a moment like this?

Yoongi could be your future, if you’d let him.

You should let him. Maybe this is your answer right here. 

“Jungkook, let’s stop.” He looks at you with crestfallen eyes, but you have to keep going. The only way out is through. “Let’s stop. You want me to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me. I don’t have the strength to keep this up anymore, and I have told you that repeatedly but you wouldn’t listen. Jungkook, move on.”

You pretend not to notice how his lip trembles even more. “What if I don’t want to move on?”

This feels like a conversation that should’ve happened ages ago. Five years ago, you should’ve screamed at him, cried with him, held each other as you both fell apart. He stripped you of that right and gave you no say at all.

“You’re being awfully selfish,” you tell him, but in your head, you’re already thinking about what his words actually mean. 

“Have you completely written me off then? Is there nothing at all that I can do? Because I would do anything if you asked. You know that.”

Your throat is so dry that it feels like you’re swallowing sand. You dig everything back up again until you find the memory of that day hidden at the very bottom.

It’s terrible. He’s making you relive it again.

“I remember calling for you and you didn’t even look back,” you say, but your voice breaks toward the end. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

Jungkook just stares at you then, and for the longest time, neither of you say anything. This is the first time that you two have addressed the problem, properly addressed it instead of half-heartedly sweeping it under the rug like you tried to do. 

You breathe in, he breathes out. You hate the way you feel, and you resent the way he looks like he’s breaking down just as badly. There are tears in those eyes, tears that Jungkook doesn’t let spill because he defiantly wipes them away with the back of his hand after a moment. 

When he speaks next, you want the world to end.

“Then I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted january 21, 2023]

[f0xgl0v3]

Calcedott tunnel makes my brain hurt; a list

Guys I read 38 pages of Tyrants tomb and already have beef with the extra forest that’s in a gorge next to a lake next to Calcedott tunnel and the highway that it presents. I’ll be talking about that, just you wait.

Okay, sorry, on the note of reading Tyrants tomb I have to get this off my chest. Here is a map that shows where the Calcedott maintenance tunnels are

(I found this map from Research gate; I’d link this but linking things on mobile Tumblr is really weird and difficult)

Lester says they turn onto highway 24. Except unless Lester has decided to not tell us they drove all the way through Berkeley/oakland as well. It’s such a weird way of getting them anywhere. Not to mention the fact that they land at Oakland airport; that should make it easier, right?

There’s Oakland international Airport. If we consider the route I will now try to draw a map of how they got there theoretically,

Okay, great, I over drew it a bit but you get the gist. Now, here’s the fun part. That Gorge that Lester swerves into, it’s not real. He’s not in the tunnels yet to reach the service tunnel for Calcedott (because the tunnels themselves are a roadway through a hill I believe) but that summons some major issues.

1) there is no place to put the gorge and lake that Lester and Meg fall into without bending Bay Area topography to our will

2) everything about Calcedott tunnel immediately makes no sense seeing as it’s a roadway that hundreds of people are driving through where there is no walk space for like Percy to be running and literally anything.

Maybe I’m simply just not understanding this, but when (from my knowledge) things like Camp Half-Blood can completely make geographical sense without moving anything geographically whatsoever. Then Camp Jupiter should make sense, and yet it doesn’t. I’m not talking about the valley itself because magic demigod magic can be protecting it. But stuff like the next to gorge with eucalyptus trees and the lake and the hidden tunnel.

I just- there is no point to this post except being confused over how this works. If anyone has any ideas feel free to provide those ideas, or if I’m just being a bit dumb then also please tell me. Tyrants tomb has made the Camp Jupiter Re-imagined map so much harder.

Anyway on that note I’m also going to be probably posting some concept drawings for the Magnus Institute building (and maybe it’s American sister institute-?) because the thing I want to know most as of being on Mag 33 is what the hiring process for the Magnus institute looks like, what are the roles in the institute? What job experience do they want someone to have, what’s the average job for people of the different like divisions look like- how do they advertise for new employees? The boring stuff :3

[darchildre]

Rathbone Holmes movies, ranked

First, the series as a whole: it's really fun! Basil Rathbone will never be my Sherlock Holmes (that's Clive Merrison, until one I like better comes along) but I can see why he is the definitive Holmes for a lot of people. He definitely has the right look - half the time he looks like he walked right out of a Paget illustration. (He's also occasionally distractingly pretty? Like, I am ace as hell and sometimes had to rewind the movie because I was paying too much attention to how nice his eyes were.)

The films are obvious B movies and made quickly (if you look at the dates below, you'll see that there were sometimes three of these released in a single year), but the occasional jankiness and short runtimes are part of their charm. I love the recurring stable of bit part actors who appear over and over again - it's fun to spot them in each successive film. I also love the absolute refusal to explain a) the shift in the Victorian era to the 1940s when the series moved to Universal and b) how Moriarty can die at the end of three separate films. Sherlock Holmes is immortal; Moriarty is like Schrödinger's cat - either dead or alive, depending on the demands of the plot. It's delightful.

I have criticisms - try as I might, I can't get over my dislike of Nigel Bruce's Watson and his influence on the perception of Watson to this day. Lestrade is likewise occasionally unbearable. There's the normal period-typical racism to deal with in certain of the films as well. Sometimes the plots don't quite hang together and there's only one that can be called anything like a faithful adaptation of the story it claims to be based on.

But, even with that, they're fun movies and well worth checking out. I enjoyed watching them and there are a few that I'll put into my "good background movies for craft time" rotation. If you want to watch any of them, they're all on youtube except for The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which you can find on the Internet Archive. Even the bad ones will only take up about 70 minutes of your time.

This post is so long, oh my god, and only going to get longer. The actual ranking will go under a cut. Sorry, folks on mobile.

And now, the ranking!

1)  The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1939) - Super fun.  It claims to be based on the play by William Gillette but, having seen what this series generally uses the words “based on” to mean, I have my doubts about that.  In any case, I think this one is stronger for not trying to wedge in details from the original stories.  George Zucco’s Moriarty is fun and definitely has Weird Bitter Exes energy with Holmes, which I find very enjoyable.  Holmes and Watson get space for some character work and Holmes gets to be a big weirdo on occasion - something I always appreciate.  Moriarty’s schemes are very fun (even if the theft of the Crown Jewels doesn’t feel like a Moriarty-style crime*) and the climactic action scene is very exciting.  Definitely my favorite of the series.

*Yes, okay, I spent the whole “stealing the Crown jewels” scene thinking “This is a Raffles crime.  Except that he would keep them on his mantel for a week and then mail them back to the Queen in a biscuit box, the weirdo.”

2)  The Woman in Green (1945) - This one is so hard to rank!  It has a really good plot, Henry Daniell is my favorite of the three Moriartys in the series, the blackmail/murder device is really interesting, it has some fun Holmes and Watson interactions and some actual character work, and the climax is really tense and suspenseful.  But I find the whole hypnosis thing deeply deeply unpleasant.  I’m honestly mad about the fact that I like so much about this film and that it has a central plot device that renders it nearly unwatchable for me.  I’m therefore putting it in the ranking where it would be if I didn’t have that very idiosyncratic problem with it.  If you don’t have a hypnosis/mind control squick, this one’s very good.

3)  The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939) - A fairly straight and faithful adaptation of HOUN, with a few changes due to the Hayes Code.  It’s solid and very enjoyable, and it looks great, with some gorgeous use of fog.  Rathbone and Bruce are both good in this one (Watson is a bit jammy, but not terribly so) and the side players are also excellent.  (John Carradine!  Lionel Atwill!)  Points off for the titular Hound just being a normal-ass dog and not made to look spooky or supernatural at all.  I’m probably rating this a little lower than other people might, simply because I’m not super into HOUN.

4)  Terror by Night (1946) - A train movie!  I love a train movie.  And it’s a train movie plus a movie with Colonel Moran.  (A Colonel Moran who isn’t a big game hunter, but is a notable jewel thief, a hobbyist mathematician, and “played for the Gentlemen at Lords”. Sure, okay, why not?)  All of the red herring train passengers are very fun (as is Holmes siccing Watson on them as a distraction).  Not the best of the series, but quite good.

5)  Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror (1942) - My favorite of the “Holmes vs Nazis” films.  This movie feels janky in places - there are some scenes that are such clear British propaganda that they’re a little hard to watch with a straight face - but there’s a very real feeling of tension and fear running through the film that makes up for it.  (Being partially based on actual events probably helps there.)  It’s also filmed in a way that feels like a much older film, which gives it a very unique look compared to the rest of the series.  Even when it’s not actually good it is always interesting. (This was the first movie made after the series moved to Universal, so some of the odd feel may also be due to that.)

6)  Dressed to Kill (1946) - There are two vague adaptation of SIXN in the series and this is the good one. It also steals a fun bit from SCAN.  It feels a little padded (we spend entirely too long watching an auctioneer run an auction, twice, and also there’s a random musical number) but the villains are fun, the plot is generally exciting, it's got a cool maguffin, there’s an interesting musical puzzle, and there's a scene where Watson tries to entertain a child by making duck noises and the child is not having it.  This is the last film in the series and it feels like a good ending.

7)  Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943) - Most of the films in this series that claim to be based on a particular Holmes story are basically lying, but this one does make at least an attempt at MUSG, swapping the goofy geometry puzzle for a goofy chess puzzle.  I like this one mostly for the period detail - I love that Watson gets to have an actual job at an army hospital, and I love the trio of shellshocked convalescents who wander through the film.  (Ostensibly, they are presented as red herrings, but they mostly provide some gentle humor that is more to my taste than Watson or Lestrade’s usual shtick.)  The final confrontation between Holmes and the killer in the crypt is also quite good.

8)  Pursuit to Algiers (1945) - A boat movie!  Fun, though not as good as a train movie.  Homes and Watson are very married in this one, and all the subterfuge with the Ruritanian nobleman (I don’t remember what fake country he’s actually supposed to be from) is very good.  Watson sings - this scene is not as painful as I feared it would be.  I would have liked a little more time spent on the trio of killers, whom I found very intriguing, but I suppose these movies are only 70 minutes long, after all.

9)  Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1943) - Oof.  I mean, it has some good points, but the central scientist maguffin character is so dumb and boring.  Fortunately, the second half of the movie gives us Lionel Atwill’s Moriarty, who is a joy.  I mean, he’s not a particularly good Moriarty, but he’s an excellent example of a Lionel Atwill-style Fucked Up Weirdo and he gets to have excellent Weird Bitter Exes energy with Holmes - this is the height of the Holmes/Moriarty “we used to date and it ended so badly” thing that these movies are doing*.  Also introduces Lestrade to the series.  He is…not a good Lestrade.

*This one does have my favorite moment of the films slipping something past the Hayes Office.  Holmes has just described his frankly disturbing fantasy about Moriarty’s death by slow exsanguination and Lionel Atwill’s Moriarty purrs, “The needle to the end, eh Holmes?”

10)  The Scarlet Claw (1944) - What if HOUN again but in Canada this time?  (Why are we in Canada?  Look, don’t worry about it.)  This one is pretty fun - the mystery is good, and I really enjoyed the character who turned out to be the killer.  (He's played by perhaps my favorite of the recurring bit part actors.) However, it has perhaps too much jam Watson shtick - having Watson literally get stuck in a hole not once but twice is too much for me.

11)  Sherlock Holmes in Washington (1943) - Not bad.  All the subterfuge and trickery with the central maguffin is good, there is a very funny scene with Holmes pretending to be an obnoxious customer in an antique shop, and George Zucco returns as an excellent non-Moriarty villain.  However, the plot itself is pretty lackluster and the film is ultimately kinda forgettable.  Not bad, just not memorable - I enjoyed watching it but I did have to go look a synopsis to remind me which one this was.

12) The House of Fear (1945) - A fun And Then There Were None-style mystery, spoiled by way too much jam Watson.  Nigel Bruce’s Watson is tolerable when he is relatively reined in - he is not reined in at all in this one. Good lord.

13)  The Pearl of Death (1944) - On the plus side, this movie did steal its opening from “The Arrest of Arsène Lupin”, which did make me laugh, and also it does the “knocking over the bowl of oranges” bit from REIG, which is always a joy.  On the other hand, it is nominally an adaptation of SIXN that goes out of its way to make Lestrade look bad and stupid, and also contains an inexplicable and unnecessary monster-murderer.  Giles Conover is a fun villain; the Hoxton Creeper is not.  I did not particularly enjoy this one.

14)  The Spider Woman (1944) - This is my least favorite.  It shoves details from about 6 different Holmes stories into a big blender and tries to make the resulting mess all work together as a coherent story.  It doesn't.  There are some good moments - I am fond of the scene between Watson and Lestrade when they think that Holmes is dead, doing SPEC with a spider is a cool idea, and there’s a bit where I swear they’re just quoting dialogue from Hornung’s “Ides of March” - but ultimately it doesn’t hang together well.  (And also it misquotes the Norbury bit from YELL and makes it racist and I’m still very angry about it.) If you're going to skip any of the series, it should be this one.

[mosrael]

I can’t remember how to make a read more on mobile right now, but I would if I could.

My grandpa died yesterday. It’s weird being in a space where I feel like I need to comfort both my parents, my sisters, my boyfriend, and even my coworkers before feeling like I deserve to cry and grieve on my own. Idk. I want to do that for them, but I don’t know why I also feel the need to push my own feelings aside until I can at least check on them and do what I can to make sure they know im there and will do whatever I can to make sure they’re even approaching ok….I know they wouldn’t and don’t want or need me to do that, but something in me makes me feel that way. I just want them to be happy and ok. I know its unrealistic of me to want that from them after someone has died….idk. I can’t really cry or feel anything unless I’m alone, and even then not until I’ve checked on everyone else. I don’t know what I think about this. I miss my grandpa and my grandma and the way things used to be. I just appreciate my cat being here. I appreciate everyone else too of course, but it makes me feel bad when people have to worry about me or my bullshit. (So stupid of me to say while posting this here. Smh. I’ll probably delete it later.) it’s just that my cat doesn’t even understand, and that gives me comfort for some reason. This is so pathetic. It probably doesn’t even make sense.

I’m sorry to even post this. I just needed to get it out of my system, I guess.

[deactivated-deadpool-anon]

Tw: heavy vent, topic of suicide, and self harm

I’ve had this in drafts for a few weeks just added on as I felt sad so if it seems jumbled that’s why

Idk how to add the little page break thing on tumblr mobile so if you’re sitting here scrolling for a minute I’m genuinely so sorry

So every winter my depression gets extremely bad as it does with most people so it’s no shocker that I’ve been in a slump for the past month but it’s bad this time the last time I could remember it being this bad was when I went through with my first attempt in 7th grade and I’m ngl I’ve heavily been thinking about trying to make another attempt on my life I don’t only for my younger siblings I can’t handle the thought of them walking in on my dead body which they inevitably would (my brother wakes me up every morning) and everytime I think about this scenario I start spiraling it’s hell but yeah not gonna kill my self ig. I’ve been using quite literally all my strength not to relapse and start self harming again I’ve been clean since November and I’m really trying to break the addiction but it’s so hard and I don’t really have any other coping mechanisms. In all honesty tho the real reason I don’t go back to cutting is bc I threw away what I was using to do it and I have like actual knives but I’m scared of going to deep (kinda ironic ig). So I’ve had a group of friends since last February (feb 2022) there’s been 3 main people with others along as well I don’t feel like going into our whole history but a cliff note version of it is we started hanging out in feb in may I started dating person B in July I broke it off with B and ever since it’s basically been me vs B (the others occasionally joining me) well I started talking to B in November after not talking to him for 2 months and shit was great it was basically how it was back before we got together he even got me a shiny Pokémon for my birthday (which means a lot to me) but practically since it’s been new year’s he went back to how he was in September (when we first stopped talking) just an asshole we obviously were annoyed by each other then we got in a “fight” so we stopped talking again anyways so that was Sunday I didn’t have school Monday but Tuesday and Wednesday he’s still been hanging around my group which is fine they’re his friends to but like I hate it bc they’re not talking to me pretty much at all throughout the day bc the only time I see person A and C person B is also there… it feels like he’s stealing my friends from me even my moirail (person A) is hanging out with him more and they don’t even like him so I feel left out completely I feel invisible and alone but not alone bc when I was alone it didn’t even feel this painful I just sit there in silence tears in my eyes but not letting them fall I stare off into space with one AirPod in trying to now ignore the outside world making little stories in my head with my f/os but in reality I just want my moirail to hug me and let me know everything’s alright and that I’m not losing anyone and that if I were to kill myself they would care they would be upset by it stuff like that but no nothing. I haven’t been able to do any school work bc of my mental state even if I take my meds (adhd meds I should probably clarify) which is weird bc my meds always keep me on track but not now ig fuck for example I have like 6 algebra assignments that become 0s tomorrow and I frankly just don’t care. When people I know tell me they don’t have tiktok i always laugh at them like c’mon it’s not that bad but it is it is that bad for example I posted a few videos of my face today and I got tons of comments fat shamming(which really helps my eating disorder but whatever),being called poor, and genuine trans + homophobia I have some pretty tough skin when it comes to these comments usually but if you haven’t noticed I’m a single problem away from violently killing myself so these comments got so bad that I had to private my account which in my 8-9 years on the internet i have never had to do. I think that’s it idk.

Oh there is actually one more thing I want to mention this happened months ago but has been pissing me off since so to put this lightly I had a dream where Murdoc from Gorillaz sexually assaulted me (yes Ik he would never do this but I can’t control my dreams) I have trauma when it comes to stuff like this bc I was sa’d as a child and I’m on the asexual spectrum so I don’t like to think of my f/os in a sexual light anyways I go to vent in my discord server that has all my friends in it looking for support (even though they were all asleep venting then makes me feel better) so I feel really dirty and sad bc again this was a sa related dream I post a kinda detailed version of the dream in #venting channel then Person B starts typing and replies with “nice fanfic” and I wish I fucking screenshoted that bc wtf dude it’s bc he’s never had/really heard about a sa situation i understand that but still why?

Vent Over

if you read this thanks ig it’s just nice to know an another living body knows my problems so I’m not necessarily suffering alone <3

TL;DR I really need a hug ffs

[evilknife]

bdsp doodle… featuring my budew fiorello he’s an intelligent boy! a handsome boy! a boy of many talents! and he loves to pose for photos

[sailormashiho]

Friday Nights

Pairing: tasm!peter x you

friends to lover | AFAB reader

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI

Synopsis: Peter had never been this late to your Friday night hangout before

Authors note: I broke my 3+? year streak of not writing because I’m sick of reading sub and dom rough pornstar esc smut. So beware, I’m extremely rusty at writing and most of this was written on my shitty iPad keyboard between 1-4am. Most likely has spelling and grammar errors! Also posted this on mobile so spacing might be weird??

Warnings: just messy loving passionate smut, a sprinkle of angst and a healthy portion of fluff

Wordcount: 2.6K

Friday nights were your absolute favourite, after a long week working your mundane job that took up all your free time, you finally had the weekend to look forward to. This meant being able to see your best friend and the man who you had the fattest crush on, Peter Parker. While his hours were much more flexible compared to yours, he used most of his spare time during the week to patrol as Spider-Man, yes, that’s right, you were head over heals for the man behind the mask of THE Spider-Man.

You met Peter not too long after the death of his Uncle Ben, a transfer student. After being seated next to him in one of your classes, the both of you almost immediately clicked, sharing a love for comic books and super hero movies. It only took 6 months for the secret to come out, not that you didn’t already have your qualms. Having no where else to go after a particularly hard night of patrolling, he sought consolation in you. After that, you became someone even more important to him, if not one of the most important people in his life.

Friday nights were yours, a time to relax and disconnect, for you it was to forget about your monotonous job, for Peter it was for him to forget about the fact that the whole of New York relied on him to keep them safe. For both of you, it was a night to reunite after a long week away from each other. The evening usually consisted of take out food, pyjamas, lots of chatting and usually ended with you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

This night shouldn’t have been any different, but by the time it hit 8:30pm, 2 hours after the usual time he showed up, you began to worry. Clutching your phone tightly in your hand, you waited for any sign, having rung him over 20 times already with no luck, anxiety burned in the pit of your stomach. He had never been this late before, the latest had been 30 maybe 40 minutes? But the longer you sat there worrying, the faster time passed, it was already 1am. You begin to pull at your hair in anguish, feeling the lump in your throat beginning to form before hearing 3 sharp raps to the living-room window of your apartment. Knowing that signature all to well, you jump up and run to the window, yanking it open in a fast desperation, letting Peter stumble in. Dropping his mask to the floor, he lets out a heaved breath “Y/N I’m so sorry, there were these guys who ambushed me just as I was about to head ove-“ you interrupted him by slamming your body in to his in a bone crushing hug, letting out a strangled sob. Peter stilled with shock, he was definitely expecting some anger, fully prepared to be sworn at and maybe a few punches to the arm as that was your usual friendship dynamic. This reaction was definitely unexpected, his heart quickly sank at the sound of your sobs and his arms wrapped around your body in comfort. You pull away from his arms, only to grab his face and place your lips to his in a feverish and desperate kiss.

Before Peter could even register what was happening, you’re reeling away, palms pressed to your mouth in shock at your own actions, tears still spilling from your eyes. “Shit Pete- I-… you don’t know how fucking worried I was” you let out a shaky breath before continuing “all I could think of was you hurt and all alone and I was just sitting around here waiting for you like an idiot”. Peter finally gathered himself, striding forward to envelope you in his arms again, “you are not an idiot Y/N” he mumbles, his left hand stroking your hair comfortingly “If anything, I’m the idiot, I’m the one who got bitten by a radioactive spider, got powers and decided to take on every criminal in New York City”. You let out a struggled noise that was supposed to be a laugh before letting yourself calm down and enjoy the serenity that being in his arms brought brung. “I thought I was going to be left all alone… I don’t think I’d ever want to live in a world without you Peter Parker” you whispered, feeling the lump in your throat quickly return at the very thought. Placing his hands on your shoulders, he pulls you back, his eyes sad and intense, “I’m am not leaving you, especially when there’s so many things I want to do with you, so many things I haven’t been able to say”.

Your cheeks flush at the sentiment in is words and you finally realise that you had kissed him only a minute or two ago in your frenzied state. Peters eyes dart around your face in attempt to read your sudden expression change, the silence in your apartment had become almost deafening. You eventually let your eyes meet his, a sheepish look now adorning your features, “I kissed you…” you uttered, only just loud enough for him to hear. It was now his turn to turn red, he had pushed that thought from his brain for the moment, wanting to focus on comforting you. “Yeah…” he responded in a similarly timorous matter, his hands were still holding you, his grip almost burnt, you felt hyper aware of the closeness between you. Noticing his gaze quickly flickering from your lips back to your eyes again, you gulp and unconsciously wet them with your tongue. Your hands were pressed flat against his chest and you noticed how well his suit was hugging his body, it wasn’t something you hadn’t thought about before, but letting your thoughts run wild while he was looking at you in such a way felt even more lewd, almost invigorating. Peter was the one to move first, letting one hand drop to rest on the dip of your waist, the other lifting to grasp the back of your neck and pull your lips towards his. Not quite meeting in the middle, he lets his ghost over yours, hesitating, almost asking permission with his actions. “Kiss me Peter” you utter with complete certainty, tone laced with need; not even a millisecond later, your lips meet once again, this time both of you aware of what was happening.

The kiss was hot and full of emotion, both of you letting out years of longing for each other, your hands were now tangled in his brown locks, pulling his mouth as close to yours as humanly possible. His hands had gone rogue, roaming every inch of your body that he could reach in your current position. Now having your backside pressed against the windowsill, your lips disconnect, only for his to find the bare skin of your neck. You tip your head back and let out a whimper of pleasure, the feeling of his wet mouth was heaven against your hot skin, his teeth grazed over your throat, leaving trails of red spots. “God I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like” he grunts, hands sliding under your shirt to grip your bare hips. “Yeah?” You breathe, his lips were now trailing over your collarbones, “I’ve always wanted you to taste me” you mumble. Peter uses this new position to pull your hips against his, you didn’t even attempt to hide the moan that escaped, feeling how hard he was adding to the wetness that was already pooling between your legs. Slipping a thigh between yours, he connects your mouths again, using his grip to rut your clothed lower half against the thicker muscles of his leg. You curse against his mouth, already feeling the burning sensation in your stomach, you were already close just from this. “Pete-“ you gasp, quickly dropping your hands to grasp his biceps, halting his actions. Scared he had overstepped your boundaries, Peter freezes in place, preparing an apology in his head already. Your legs were shaking as your tried to hold yourself up by your grip on his arms, slowly gazing up at him through your eyelashes. His breath catches at the hazed needy look you were now giving him, “I want you to be inside me when I cum” you rasp.

The sound that escaped his lips almost sounded like a whimper, he was sure the sight of his cock straining painfully against the confines his suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. He hastily made work of the material, not being gentle whatsoever to rip it from his body. You let out a weak giggle as he almost trips trying to get his feet out before trailing your eyes up his body, clenching your legs together at the sight of him now only in his briefs. “Fuck, Y/N are you sure?”, it felt as if he used every ounce of confidence in the last few minutes and had abruptly run out. His brain suddenly starting to run in circles about anything and everything that could possibly go wrong, most of all, he was afraid that you’d regret doing this with him afterwards. He didn’t just want to have spur of the moment sex with you, he wanted to be with you more than anything else in the world. Even if you changed your mind now, would what happened ruin the friendship that you two had built over the years? If you didn’t change your mind, would you be turned off by his feelings for you? Were his feelings worth sacrificing just to feel your touch, even if it was just for one night? As if you had read his mind, you step towards him, brows set in a worried frown, your hands find themselves gently placed on his hips in a comforting manner. “Peter, if you don’t want to continue, it’s completely okay” you say in a soft tone, “I just need you to know, that no matter what happens, you’re my best friend and I’m so fucking in love with you”. Your words were so tender, Peter almost felt like crying in relief, he grasped your face in his hands and kissed you once again, it was brief and loving, filled with as much emotion as he could possibly pack in there. “I’m supposed to be the superhero here, but saying that aloud scared me shitless, I’m so happy, I love you so much, thank you for saying that, I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you”. Your heart swells and a grin plasters your face, “show me Pete” you take a few steps backwards towards your couch, reaching down and pulling your shirt over your head in the process, “show me how much you love me”.

Blood rushes straight back to his cock at those words and he’s quick to follow you, as if in autopilot, his mouth for the umpteenth time today meeting yours. His hands were quick to follow, swiftly unbuttoning and yanking your shorts down, pants following. You could help but gasp at the suddennesses, one second he was standing, the next you were in his lap as he sat on the plush couch. Your bra was the next to go, one hand ditching it to the other side of the room and the other already making work of your hardened nipples, rolling them between the pads of his fingers. “You’re so wet baby” he mutters before attaching his mouth to one of your sensitive buds, he was right, the wet patch you were leaving on his underwear was growing and the feeling was driving him absolutely wild. “Need these gone now” you grumble, fisting his hair and dragging his face from your chest. Not even giving him a moment to register, you prop yourself backwards and tug down his briefs, his member now loose, slapping against his stomach and leaking pre-cum. Your hand shot out to grasp him, lubricating the tip with his own fluids, his head lulls back at your touch, he already knew he wasn’t going to last long with you. He had never been more turned on in his life and he had dreamed of a moment like this so many times before. “Peter, can I please ride you?” He almost came right then and there, never had he expected something like that to come out of your mouth, and although you sounded so innocent, it was so fucking lewd. His mouth gaped, brain suddenly completely empty, he could not think of a single word to reply to you with, you already had yourself propped above him. Finally finding himself, his hands find their way to your hips again “please” he almost begs. You give him a loving smile and let the head of his cock slide between your wet folds to lubricate it before positioning him at your entrance, slowly lowering yourself on him. Both of you choke back noises of pleasure, your hands were now gripping his shoulders so tightly there would probably be marks left in a few hours. His were still grasping your hips, guiding you until you had him completely sheathed inside you, your walls twitching slightly as they adjusted to his size. With both of you being so aroused, it took only a moment for you to accommodate to him and you began to roll your hips against his. “I love you so fucking much” he hisses as you breathlessly quicken your pace, sharing a hot wet kiss before pressing your foreheads together. Your legs were shaking, feeling weak under his touch and already so close to your release. You weren’t doing the best job at keeping momentum and Peter quickly took note of this and how clouded you looked “I love you too Pete” you pant, nails digging in to his skin. “Y/N, here let me try” he pecks your lips and loops his arms around your back to hold you upright, you give him a nod as he slips out of you, your juices dripping down to his groin. He quickly readjusts himself slightly before sliding in to you again, his hips beginning to jut in to yours at a more rapid pace. You let out a cry of pleasure as he messily plows in to you, his guttural moans also fill the room as you were both so close to your release. “Shit I’m going to cum” you shrill, clenching around his cock as it hit you so deeply, “me too, fuck you feel so fucking good”. Your peak crashes down on you and you find yourself burying your face in to the skin of Peters neck in an attempt to stifle your cries of pleasure. “Please cum inside of me Pete, I want to feel you” you beg, legs shaking as his continuous thrusts prolonged your orgasm. Peters messy pace became even more haphazard as his release also approached, he promptly yanks your lips to his and comes undone, his whines muted by your warm lips. His hips begin to slow as he comes down from his high, softening inside you and eventually slipping out.

You find yourself collapsed on his chest, both of you breathless and covered in sweat, the mixture of both of your cum dripping down your thighs. Although it probably wasn’t very fitting for the current situation, butterflies were blooming in your stomach. Peters fingers found themselves gliding through your hair, his heartbeat finally slowing to its resting rate. “This isn’t a dream is it?” He mumbles, eyes trained at the ceiling in a blissful daze, you giggle a press a gentle kiss to the base of his jaw “if it is, I hope I never wake up”.

[ulteriorm0tiv3s]

lmao i suck at keeping up with stuff like this so expect me to post like 3 more times today ,, anyways writetober day 2 but i kinda gave up halfway :’) also sorry for the weird spacing, mobile sucks </3

☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃

latte cookie walked around the academy, watching all the students scurry about. it was almost time for them to go home, so the hallways were a bit chaotic. latte cookie let out a lighthearted sigh, continuing on her way. she was looking for a certain office, yours to be exact. since it was october, latte cookie had something planned for the two of you. after finding your little office within the academy, she knocked on the door, making sure you weren’t in there. thankfully you weren’t, so she stepped inside. she placed a small letter on your desk, and left quickly.

☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃

letting out a tired groan, you dragged yourself into your office. it had been a long day, dealing with kids was extremely exhausting. while you were packing up your stuff, you noticed a letter on your desk..

“hi (y/n)! i hope you’re doing well today! remember to take care of yourself! stay hydrated and have confidence! but anyways to the main part of this letter; if you’re available, come over to my place! i planned something for us. you know where to find me! -latte cookie 🤍!”

ah, latte cookie. one of the cookies you were closest to. what could she have planned now? you sighed as you gathered your things and made your way to latte cookie’s house.

☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃

“hey latte cookie, i’m here,” you mumbled, knocking on the door. the door creaked open as her cat nudged it with her nose, almost as if she was welcoming you inside. you gave the cat a little stroke on the head before walking inside. “ah, you made it!” latte cookie cheered as she walked over to you. she gave you a big bear hug, making sure to be extra welcoming, as she always does. “hey hey, what did you have planned for us?” you asked, hugging her back. “oh! i wanted to make pumpkin spice lattes with you! since it’s october!” she exclaimed, you could hear the excitement in her voice. “and we’re going late night shopping because i forgot to get the ingredients!”

“latte, it’s almost 11 at night, what stores would be open?” “cookiemart! they’re open 24/7!” that was true. ’i guess she knows what she’s doing,’ you thought to yourself.

☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃

you sighed as you sat in the cart, latte cookie was pushing you around the store. you enjoyed sitting in the middle of the cart, but you had your own legs. as latte cookie pushed the cart, you grabbed the items you needed and shoveled them into the cart with you. this was kind of fun to you, to be honest; it was like a game. latte cookie drove the cart, and you had to pick the right items, or else you’d have to turn around.

“and the last thing we need is the pumpkin purée!” latte cookie cheered once again, excitement in her voice. she pushed the cart into the isle, and you glanced around. “ah, there it is,” you hummed, grabbing a small can of pumpkin purée. and with that, latte cookie nyoom’d over to the self checkout.

☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃

after dealing with some annoying, late night karens, you and latte cookie managed to get back home. the both of you set the ingredients on the counter and got started. this wasn’t a hard task, latte invited you to make drinks with her often. but you’ve never made pumpkin spice lattes before.

“step one, combine the milk, pumpkin puree, sugar, pumpkin pie spice and vanilla in a microwave safe bowl; cover the bowl with plastic wrap and vent with a small hole. microwave until the milk is hot, 1 to 2 minutes. then whisk until the milk mixture is foamy,” latte cookie read aloud. “seems easy enough,” you muttered, putting the paper down.

latte added all the ingredients to the bowl, and you took turns mixing the milky concoction. you lightly dipped a finger into the mixture, and booped your finger against latte cookie’s nose. she giggled and did the same to you. the both of you had a short laughing fit before continuing your work.

☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃☕️🎃

after heating up the coffee, you split the foam and add it on top of your cups. “i rented the nightmare before christmas, you up for a movie?” latte cookie smiled as she nudged your arm with her elbow. you chuckled and clinked your glass against hers.

“movie night it is then.”

[pebblysand]

hello, hello! i hope you’re all doing well! i’m really sorry for the delayed post this month - i went to norway over the may bank holiday weekend and didn’t have time to write this post preemptively last week. for those of you who celebrate, i hope you had a great european labour day! 

anyway, before diving into more life/writing updates, here are some quick links to different blog pages you might not see on mobile :

FIC MASTERLIST 

FIC RECS 

WRITING ADVICE 

ORIGINAL PIECES 

OPINION PIECES & ASKS [updated]

FINANCIALLY SUPPORT MY WRITING  (thank you!)

[NOTE: i am currently not accepting prompts]

Castles (chap 11) ETA: yeah idk. i am working on it i promise. see below for more info. 

links extended a/n-s: chapter v ; chapter vi & vii ; chapter viii ; chapter ix ; chapter x

[more life/writing updates under the cut]

it's may for the month of may do you get it??? 😂

.

WHAT I’M READING:

books: 

i finished none of this is serious by catherine prasifka (who, btw, happens to be sally rooney’s sister in law) and very much enjoyed it. i wouldn’t say it’s a 5-star read, but definitely a 4-star one - i finished it in two days and was very hooked! the story is set in dublin and is a cross between three rooms, sally rooney’s general millennial figuring-your-shit-out-in-a-crumbling-world vibes, and metaphorical fantasy? i know it sounds weird, but it really works. the main plot follows sophie, a recent graduate trying to find her way between applying to jobs, evolving friendships, awkward situationships, etc., but also features a mysterious purple crack that randomly appears in the sky and is the subject of much anguish and speculation. the writing style is that crisp, quick, present tense shit that is now a bit cliché but that i will always eat right up regardless, so it really worked for me. however, what i found really interesting and unusual in the book was that the main character never actually speaks. she texts on her phone, has a rich internal monologue, but every conversation she has, you only really get the other person’s spoken quote, never hers. she explains what she thinks, and sometimes mentions what she doesn’t say, but while you know that she does respond something (i.e. she’s not mute), you never actually know what she says. the book obviously wants this to be a reflection on the “noise” that exists around us at the moment (social media, friends, etc) versus the relative “silence” of its main character. it’s like there’s so much being said around her, a constant, neverending buzz, but she never quite knows how to make herself heard/understood within that noise. i found this very clever and effective. generally, i think this book has a lot of embedded metaphors in its characters and situations, some that i really enjoyed (like sophie’s silence), and some that fell a bit more flat for me (like the crack in the sky - a metaphor of the news cycle? capitalism? the pandemic? - or sophie’s twin sister, hannah, who felt so one-dimensional i sometimes wondered if she was real or meant as a figment of sophie’s imagination and hatred of everything she isn’t but feels she should be?). but overall, i really related to sophie’s constant struggles with the split between her “online” life and irl. the book also really succeeds in portraying the difficult space of time between uni and work, where you’re done with uni but in the working world, no one wants you because you don’t have “experience.” all you want is to find a job, any job, to get some sort of validation/stability, and you don’t know what you have to do to achieve it. i really related to that and really recognised myself from a few years ago in the authors’ descriptions. lastly, i also really enjoyed grace, sophie’s best friend, to whom i really related to - it’s always interesting to get an outside perspective on what might be people’s perception of us, even though it’s not always flattering 🤣.

additionally, i am still reading 1984 on my kindle, i’m about 33% in. for now, i have to say, the book isn’t really grabbing my attention. i mean, i know it’s a classic and i do find it very interesting to see all of the “origins” of today’s dystopian novels in this story (and the style is definitely very modern) but i just - idk. i find myself skipping a lot of paragraphs of worldbuilding and description that seem a bit unnecessarily detailed. i suppose that at the time, the concept of the novel was new enough that everything needed to be explained but now, we’ve all read so much dystopia (especially in ya) that i feel like a lot of the intricacies of the world, i would already have assumed. so, idk. it’s definitely a good book and in my journey exploring “modern” classics, i’m enjoying this much more than i did to kill a mockingbird but still, i keep picking it up, reading a handful of pages, and finding my thoughts drifting as i keep reading. 

.

WHAT I’M WATCHING: 

peaky is over. thank god we know there will be a film in a couple of years cause otherwise i’d be utterly devastated. like most people, while my feelings towards this series were mixed (i think i’ll have more of a definite opinion upon rewatch), i really, really loved the finale. i think it was everything we could hope for, especially considering helen mccrory’s passing and the upheaval it obviously caused. i think you could probably write a thesis about the question of whether tommy really was ‘redeemed’ by the end but regardless, i truly loved this. peaky blinders is and will always be the show of my 20s and one of the most brilliant tv series ever made and i think that overall, the finale 100% lived up to expectations. 

in other news, i’ve also watched the abercrombie doc yesterday, which was such a strange and fascinating trip down memory lane, and i just sat with my thoughts for a good while afterwards. i think: 

one of the things that really struck me in mike jeffries’ attitude towards his critics is how much this marketing technique reminded me of ryanair. if you’re not familiar/not from europe, ryanair is an irish low-cost flight company that operates exclusively in europe and is very well-known for providing the Worst Possible Service to its customers, at the lowest cost possible. the planes fly, sure, and you will get there (interestingly, they’ve actually never had a major crash), but the workers are paid absolute peanuts and are employed under ridiculous irish contracts, regardless of where they are based in europe. the working conditions are terrible, the company makes you pay for literally everything, and the ceo openly claims to have considered things like: making people travel standing to save costs, or even making customers pay to use the bathrooms. these are very different companies, obviously, and ryanair has never had any discriminatory behaviours that we know of (if anything, they are known to hire more southern/eastern european staff to be able to pay them shittier salaries as the standard of living is lower in these countries) but i think there’s a very similar vein of: ‘yeah, i’m an arsehole, so what?’ brand image. it really came through in that interview where mike jeffries was like ‘yeah, we are exclusionary, that is our brand model.’ idk if it’s a ‘all press is good press’ ethos, or something else, but the attitude really reminded me of ryanair’s marketing. 

on a broader spectrum, while there is obviously an issue when you apply those conditions to staffing (i.e. don’t hire poc-s, etc.), fundamentally, sure, you can choose to only market to a small, fit, white section of the population, but that’ll make you look like a complete arsehole. and, i found it interesting how the brand image, because it was so outright exclusionary, went from ‘cool’ to ‘uncool’ as we, as a society, evolved as well. there was actually a really good quote from one of the women who were interviewed which summed it up excellently: ‘A&F’s aura went away precisely because exclusion was the root of their success, and exclusion itself stopped being quite so cool.’ it’s such a true statement and it made me so grateful that we, as society, have evolved in the right direction in the past 20 years. when you remember what the 90s/00s were like, it’s really nice to see how far we’ve come (even if obviously, we’re far from perfect these days).

lastly, on an even broader point, it struck me how the rise and fall of abercrombie correlated, over the same period of time, with the rise and fall of the marketing of the american ‘image’ in europe. i think that anyone who was a kid/teenager in the 00s in europe probably remembers how ‘cool’ the people who wore A&F/Hollister in school were, not only because of the brand image itself, but also because that meant they had been to america! i remember that even having an american distant cousin sort of gave me street cred 🤣. whenever i visited them, i would not only bringing all those ‘cool’ brands from the us back for me, but also for my friends! those stores didn’t exist in europe and having american clothing was so ‘cool’ and trendy, because it also demonstrated that you were ‘cool’ and had been to cool places like new york or boston, or la. honestly, i cannot overstate how cool america was back then. they had all this stuff we didn’t have, all these films and tv shows, everyone i knew wanted to live there. i remember two of my friends got into a fight because friend A had gone to new york on holiday and the next year friend B did, and friend A accused B of ‘copying’ her for attention. it was madness. and now, no one i know wants to live in the us, bar from a girl in work, but she always justifies it by like ‘i know it’s bad but my boyfriend is american so we’ll have to live there eventually.’ and i don’t really know where this fall in status came from. is it the war in iraq, or the fact that we all got access to social media and realised america is So Bad in terms of healthcare, racism, etc. or just the living conditions deteriorating there? idk but it really happened throughout the 00s and early 10s, exactly at the same time as A&F’s rise and fall. and, don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of issues with europe, but i think it’s interesting that both A&F and america in general ceased to be aspirational at the same time. 

.

WHAT I’M LISTENING TO:

there aren’t really any podcasts that i truly remember from this month but i’ve very much been enjoying the irish times’ women’s podcast, which has just fed my usual annoyance at the patriarchy 🤣. 

aside from that, top five songs currently are: 

que tout s’danse by noé preszow - i’ve recently gotten obsessed with because i think it might be the theme song to one of the upcoming castles chapters

bad habits by ed sheeran - idk man i’ve just been in love with this song for a year now, it’s not going away. i find it very inspiring. 

anthem by yonaka & barns courtney - another upcoming castles song

the kids are all rebels by lenii - same as the above but also i love lenii so much. i’ve been following her for a few years now but it was so nice to see her finally get the traction she deserved on tiktok over the pandemic!

laura by bat for lashes - another fic song 🤣🤣 omg. not castles though. 

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WHAT I’M WRITING:

as i’ve mentioned on here the past few weeks, my main focus this past month has been castles. i was hoping i would be able to post by this weekend but that has sort of fallen off track. i’ve been fighting seasonal allergies and been extremely tired due to my company returning to the office; i feel like commuting has taken up even more of my writing time. as i said on here, i’ve been feeling very guilty over my lack of updates lately and feel like i need to cut myself some slack. it’s just so hard comparing my 90k output from sep 2020 to may 2021 (when i wasn’t working) to the barely three chapters i’ve produced since then. it’s even more frustrating because when i do get time to focus on castles and actually write it, i love doing so So Much, but it just takes a lot of time and focus and finding time to do that whilst working full time is just So Damn Hard. 

so like, idk. what i can promise you is that i am working on it. i have about 15k of a first draft at the moment, and i’m working on the rest/polishing it. as i said here, all i know is that once i do manage to get this done the way i want, there will probably be loads of content coming your way at once. so, i suppose, at least there’s that, haha.  

.

WHAT I’M DOING:

you may not have noticed this because i sort of cleverly queued up some posts lately, but i’ve been taking a sort of social media break. i say “sort of” cause it’s not been a hard cut or anything, but i just deleted discord and tumblr off my phone and honestly, i think it was for the best. my screen time was getting absolutely ridiculous and i was having a very hard time focusing on things (writing included) - honestly, being constantly on my phone just wasn’t much fun anymore. i probably will reinstall tumblr eventually but i think, for the most part, i’m going to stay off discord (or at least, off the regular “chats”), just concentrating on fanfic conversations, etc. you might or might have seen it (not linking anything here cause i don’t want to restart the debate, and it’s not my point), but i had a disagreement with a discord that was created recently, restricting membership to a particular age group. and, it got me thinking a lot about the way we’ve now “restricted” fandoms to “exclusive” discord servers, that so few people can access, especially when they are invite-only. there’s gazillions of hp discord servers at the moment, each centred into their own little silo, and while i completely understand people who think differently, i’m not sure that’s what i want for myself. 

i think we’re kind of congregating with fans that not only have the same general interests as we do, but also are of the same demographic, same countries, same fandom niche, etc. it’s becoming more and more niche to the point that disagreement and debate is practically nonexistent. and, don’t get me wrong, i’ve 100% participated in that myself, and i’ve found amazing communities and met amazing people along the way, but i generally have been finding that we are all a bit guilty (again, myself very much included) of finding our own safe echo chambers, both in fandom and otherwise, to the point that interacting with the “outside” and people who think differently becomes harder and harder to tolerate. like, yeah, there are a lot of stupid kids on tumblr, and a lot of arseholes, but i think we actually need those to live healthily in society. and again, it’s not a diss to anyone who does seek those “safe” secluded spaces, i’ve sought them myself in the past, but i don’t think they’re actually good for my mental health and the person that i am. as proven by the fact that i needed a social media break from it all, lmao 🤣🤣. 

so anyway, i’m still on discord, and i might still interact here and there, and will defo get back on tumblr, but i think i’m better when i’m on the sidelines on this one, ahah.

anyway, i think that will be all for now. i hope you all have lovely month :). 

lots of love, 

pebblysand. 

[patheticgirlsteve]

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie calls out to Steve as he jogs over to the beemer where it’s idling in front of the high school. Steve had showed up to pick up Dustin from their Hellfire session that evening, but apparently Dustin had planned a sleepover at the Sinclair’s house and had forgotten to tell Steve that he wouldn’t need a ride. Typical, but it worked out in Eddie’s favor.

“Could I catch a ride home with you in the milf mobile by any chance?”

Steve stares at him blankly for a couple of seconds before responding.

“The what?”

“The milf mobile,” Eddie grins. Maybe it isn’t a good idea to taunt Steve while he’s asking him a favor, but Eddie has already committed to the bit, so it’s too late to back out now. And besides, messing with Steve Harrington is one of Eddie’s favorite hobbies. “This fine chariot of yours, of course.”

“Why the fuck would you call it that?” Steve looks disgusted as he glances around to make sure the kids aren’t lingering and potentially over hearing this conversation.

Eddie crosses his arms and leans them on the open window of the passenger side door. This September hasn’t been super windy, but there’s an unexpected breeze blowing through Hawkins right now that makes Eddie wish he had worn a jacket. Because of course it’s windy on the one day Eddie decides to forgo the leather and walk to the high school instead of driving himself.

“Because you’re a milf and this is your mobile. Pretty straightforward logic here, Steve-O.” Eddie keeps pushing with an innocent smile.

Steve looks stunned. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Whatever milfs your mobile, dude,” Eddie clearly has no sense of self preservation, because if he did he would certainly stop.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Steve protests indignantly. “And stop saying milf, it’s weird and I’m not a milf.”

“Steve, I hate to break it to you, babe,” Oops, Eddie hadn’t meant to let that slip out, but it’s too late to take back now so he just rolls with it. “But you have, like, six kids.”

“They’re not my kids,” Steve argues and maybe it’s just wishful thinking on Eddie’s part (it definitely is), but he thinks Steve’s face looks a little red at the pet name. “I’m just the babysitter. And I’m definitely not a milf, so stop calling me one.”

Eddie pouts at him. “You never let me have any fun.”

Steve sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. “I’ll give you a ride home if you promise never to say any of those words again.”

Eddie pretends to consider this for a moment. Obviously he’s not going to stop now that he’s seen what a strong reaction it provokes from Steve, but he nods and sticks his hand out into the car for Steve to shake. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Harrington. I promise to stop calling your car a milf mobile. Starting now.”

Steve ignores the hand Eddie has extended to him and instead reaches over to unlock the door so Eddie can get in. Eddie tries not to feel disappointed that he won’t get to feel Steve’s palm against his own and fails miserably. He pulls his hand back to open the car door.

“You better not be lying to me, Munson,” Steve points a finger at Eddie as he settles into the passenger seat and buckles up his seatbelt. “I don’t need the kids to hear you saying that shit.”

“Would I lie to you, Stevie?” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve. Steve starts the car with an eye roll so large that Eddie’s surprised he doesn’t strain anything. Eddie’s a bit flattered, Steve usually reserves that eye roll just for Dustin.

“Yes, you absolutely would,” Steve doesn’t sound as put out by this as he probably should, in fact, he almost sounds fond. Eddie has to beat the voice in his head that’s telling him that that means something back into submission. It definitely doesn’t. He allows himself one more little moment of teasing though.

“You would be so bored without me, Harrington,” He drawls and pokes Steve’s arm as he pulls out into the road. Steve glances over at Eddie for just a second and Eddie looks back.

“Yeah,” Steve admits, and Eddie’s heart does NOT flutter at the way Steve’s voice is definitely fond now. “Yeah, I probably would be.”

And, well, Eddie hadn’t expected Steve to admit that so freely. “Oh,” is all he says in response.

“What, you didn’t expect me to agree with you?” Steve spares him another glance and Eddie has not stopped staring at him since he got inside the car. “Eddie, you’re one of my best friends, man. You’ve gotta know that by now,”

Eddie nods like this is not news to him. But it is. It really is. Eddie had no idea that Steve thought so highly of him.

Sure, they hang out a decent amount, but Eddie has always just figured that Steve was just tolerating him for the rest of the group’s sake. That he laughs at Eddie’s terrible jokes and puns just to humor him. That he keeps a couple of Dio and Black Sabbath tapes in his car just so that Eddie won’t complain about having to listen to Tears for Fears. That he goes out of his way to do nice things for Eddie (like bring him his favorite sandwich from the diner they frequent for lunch at work as a surprise) because that’s just the kind of person that Steve is. That he just does that for everyone.

Apparently Steve isn’t convinced by Eddie’s slow nodding because he keeps talking.

“Seriously, Eddie,” Steve sounds extremely earnest and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself. “I’m sorry I don’t say it very often, but I’m, uh, not great with talking about feelings?” He says it like it’s a question.

“Feelings are hard,” Eddie agrees quietly and Steve swallows and nods. If Eddie didn’t know any better he would say that Steve almost looks nervous.

“Feelings are hard,” And maybe Eddie really doesn’t know any better, because Steve really does seem nervous now. “Eddie,” Steve starts and then stops and oh god, Eddie was right. Steve is nervous and now it’s making Eddie nervous too.

“Steve,” He returns. “Are you okay, man?” He asks gently, pushing down the secondhand anxiety that Steve is giving him.

“Yeah,” Steve says too quickly. He stops again, takes a deep breath and slowly lets it back out. “I just…” He trails off and looks like he’s steeling himself to say something big. Eddie doesn’t let his stomach flip when Steve looks at him again, determined.

“I like you, Eddie,” Steve says with a conviction that Eddie finds mildly alarming. “A lot. I really care about you, as a friend and as… more.”

Eddie’s brain stops working. It’s paused and the world is paused and everything is paused as Eddie attempts to process Steve’s words, but Steve doesn’t pause.

“And I totally get it if you don’t feel the same and I promise not to make things weird if you don’t and I’m so sorry to spring this on you right now when you’re in my car and can’t just, like, escape. I seriously didn’t mean to corner you like this, I had a plan and I had stuff I was going to say and I was going to ask you out and, god, I shouldn’t have done this like this, I should have just waited and, fuck, I’m sorry, Eddie, this was such a dick move—“

“Steve!” Eddie’s brain comes back online just enough for Eddie to cut off this rambling and unnecessary apology. “Stop talking for a second, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “Yeah.”

“Pull over, please,” Eddie says calmly, he needs to think and he feels like he can’t do that with the car moving.

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly and pulls the car to the shoulder of the road and puts it in park. He sits quietly, a ball of nervous energy as he waits for Eddie to say something.

Eddie wills his brain to come up with thoughts, and quickly. When it refuses to do so he closes his eyes with a sigh. Well, he’s always preferred the most dramatic choices in every situation, so what he’s about to do now probably makes the most sense for him anyway.

“Steve,” Eddie opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt so that he can better angle his body towards Steve’s and he’s ignoring the way his heart rate is starting to pick up.

Steve turns his head to look at Eddie, he’s biting his lip and Eddie’s eyes are drawn to the movement immediately. He flicks his gaze back up to meet Steve’s and the air is thick with something Eddie is too dazed to name right now as their eyes meet over the center console .

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, and he says Eddie’s name with a reverence that no one has ever used for Eddie before and Eddie really cannot be blamed for what happens next.

He surges forward and crashes his lips into Steve’s, nearly missing the mark in his eagerness. Steve’s hands immediately fly up to cradle Eddie’s head, fingers digging themselves into Eddie’s hair. He kisses Eddie back without hesitation, just a quick moment of shock before he kisses Eddie with urgency and desire and skill that makes Eddie’s head reel and he has to pull back for air sooner than he’d like to.

Eddie gasps when Steve’s mouth tries to follow his, Steve’s tongue tracing the tip of Eddie’s upper lip as they part.

“Eddie?” Steve sounds breathless and hopeful and he’s saying Eddie’s name, but knows that he’s asking Are you sure? And Eddie is forever indebted to whatever power in the universe is letting him have this.

“Steve,” Eddie answers with finality. Yes, I’ve never been more sure of anything. Steve smiles. And what else do they need to say?

Well, Eddie can think of one thing to say.

“I can’t believe our first kiss happened in the milf mobile.”

And Steve just groans.

eddie starts referring to steve’s beemer as the milf-mobile

[medleymisty]

Ask game

Tagged by @nigmos and @siancyaniam

Sorry about the spacing - not sure what happened.

Why did you choose your URL?

Medley and Princess Misty were two of my favorite My Little Ponies when I was a kid.

How long have you been on tumblr?

Since around October 2012 I think?

Do you have a queue tag?

Nope.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Came back to the Sims community after a break and I found everyone had moved to Tumblr.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It’s Seth. It’s always been Seth. ;)

If you don’t know - he was the villain of my Sims 3 story In the Valley of the Sun. He became my favorite character and I’ve written a ton about him since.

Why did you choose your header?

On mobile it’s a pic I took at Carowinds at Winter Fest before the plague, and I like the colors. On desktop it’s a pic of a foggy morning in my neighborhood, and I like it and I think it’s cool.

What’s your post with the most notes?

I have no idea and I don’t want to know.

How many mutuals do you have?

I am not sure how to tell.

How many followers do you have?

Nope, not getting me to post bait for trolls. ;)

How many people do you follow?

1152. I should probably go clear out inactives I don’t feel attached to.

Have you ever made a shitpost?

Not sure what a shitpost is. From context I think it’s like a random funny post? Do the ones where I’m like yay I am happy and I love the sky and the clouds and the sun and trees count?

How often do you use tumblr every day?

A fair bit, because my brain needs something to do while waiting for things to happen. I also like to show funny posts on here to the spousal person, so I have to look for them. :)

Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

Not that I know of, but I know there are people out there who don’t like me. I guess I won since I don’t even know who they are or why they don’t like me.

Saw something yesterday morning where someone was still making fun of me for not being in a good mental health place 17 years ago near the height of the complex PTSD? There are some weird people out there reading Sims stuff y’all. Be careful.

How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

I immediately unfollow anyone who reblogs those unless there’s a special situation. I have a Thing about shaming people and using harsh mean absolutist language. I don’t like it and I don’t tolerate it in my online experience.

Do you like tag games?

Yes!! :) I may not always have the mental energy/time to do them and I don’t like tagging people because I don’t want to make anyone feel left out by not tagging them or make them feel obligated by tagging them though.

Do you like ask memes?

See above. :)

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I don’t know? There is one person I follow whose blog I used to read years ago and I was so excited when they followed me back and even talked to me, but they’re not a Sims person so I won’t tag them. Also pretty sure they’re not famous to anyone but me.

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

No, sorry, I only crush on the spousal person. 20th wedding anniversary in September woooo! :)

As per usual for tagging others - if you read this far you’ve been tagged. Do it if you want and don’t if you don’t want. :)

[forgottenpnffacts]

Do you have any good images of the inside of Doof’s house? Sorry if this is a weird question lol

It’s a perfectly understandable question, but i’m also just going to map Doof’s D.E.I. spaces while i’m at it! CTRL + F to “key spaces” for the beginning of the inside areas. (Before beginning, if any of you are going to need an in-universe reason for all of the confusing things i’m about to present, i’d say to just chalk it up to the many times we’ve seen D.E.I. exploding--it’s constantly getting rebuilt/repainted from all of Doof’s inator mishaps. Also, this post is probably going to crash on mobile.)

These floors are the ones we’ve seen Doof use as his lab(s) and main apartment:

(It varies exactly what floor each of these spaces occupy, though we at least know they span the topmost area/penthouse.)

Now, as I was compiling all this, I noticed that most commonly he has a lab on the roof and the lower inside landing(?). 

I also noticed that the show varies depending on the episode whether his lab or apartment opens directly to the higher outside landing....and that sometimes his apartment either leads to the lab which opens to the higher outside landing, or it leads to an inside hallway that opens to the lab (if you need to do art or fanfiction or whatever, I would suggest keeping the apartment leading to the upper landing since the apartment’s inside always has a giant shutter in the wall for opening to the outside).

It seems like any of the doors in the main hallway on Doof’s floor(s?) lead to either his lab or apartment/living areas,

and, while the colors of the inside of his apartment sometimes change (in terms of a single, certain area changing/separate from the fact that apparently certain walls of the same room are painted different colors), the furniture generally stays consistent.

*Note: Much like how Doof’s Evil tattoo is only visible when zoomed in on, D.E.I. has windows that are only seen in detail when being focused on.

Here are the key spaces of Doof’s in D.E.I.: outside hallway, main apartment/living area, inside hallway, roof lab, landing lab, communal spaces, and bonus rooms.

**Note: I’m not entirely sure how many doors are in any given space. Also, i’m just merging the stuff in the possible two landing labs since the PnF crew can’t decide if there are two or not (Perry and Doof often go into one lab and teleport into the layout of another one anyway, so really any of the labs are interchangeable).

1) Outside Hallway (leads to any of Doof’s spaces, has an elevator at the end, is decorated with paneling)

2) Main Apartment/Living Area (includes Doof’s bedroom, kitchen, living room, cheese room, bathroom, and leads to a lab)

3) Inside Hallway (leads to lab, Norm’s closet, and apartment)

4) Roof Lab (includes sitting area and doors to other rooms)

5) Landing Labs (include alcoves, sitting area, kitchenette, Norm’s room + bathroom, startle space, computer area, ???Vanessa’s bedroom???, and doors to other rooms)

6) Communal spaces (basement, lobby, parking garage, delivery entrance)

7) Bonus rooms (AKA Where Is This Supposed To Be)

[lumini-317]

Hello!

This will be my official “introductory” post!

My real name is Erica, but I go by many names. My nickname repertoire includes but is not limited to: Lumi, Lumini, Cricket (I have a habit of rubbing my feet together, lmao), Jinx, Eri, Er, EriJoy, Sunbaeby, and Aceir (my real name but in alphabetical order).

This is my first ever Tumblr blog. I’ve had it for a while but have rarely posted anything, that along with the fact that I’m on mobile is kind of a mess so I apologize for mistakes and all that.

I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother.

I’m an ambivert. Sometimes I love hanging out with bigger groups of people, other times I dread it.

I’ve taken the “16personalities” test 4 times and all 4 put me in the “Diplomat” category, however I got “Advocate” (INFJ) 2 times, and “Protagonist” (ENFJ) and “Mediator” (INFP) 1 time each.

I am LGBTQ+. I’m asexual, aro+panromantic flux, and while I feel like I’m genderfluid, the changes are very subtle and so I sometimes just go with agender, gendervoid, or neutrois. It’s a lot less complicated that way. I’m ambiamorous, and also pronoun apathetic!

I love whump. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember but only found the whump community maybe 3(?) years ago.

I also love K-Pop, C-Pop, J-Pop, and Asian dramas, mainly K-Pop and K-Dramas, though.

I’m a HUGE multistan. ATEEZ, SKZ, TBZ, EXO, BTS, Red Velvet, SHINee, iKON, MONSTA X, TWICE, TO1, WANNA ONE, SuperM, X1, MIRAE, Ciipher, Golden Child, Purple Kiss, BAE173, SF9, IU, ONEUS, ONEWE, The Rose, PIXY, LUCY, STAYC, WEi (which I pronounced as “way” for an embarrassingly long time), Dreamcatcher, Brave Girls, TXT, ENHYPEN, SNSD, KARD, AKMU, SHAUN, Gaho, NCT, GHOST9, 1team, SE7EN, Cross Gene, D1ce, AB6IX, CRAVITY, BLACKPINK, CIX, VIXX, f(x), 4Minute, CLC, YEZI, B.I, Wonho, (G)I-DLE, EVERGLOW, SEVENTEEN, BROOKLYN, Ha Hyunsang, DAY6, GOT7, Teen Top, BAP, TREASURE, UNIQ, etc! It goes on, far longer than I can list. I am also very much against fanwars, they disgust me.

I’m also a HUGE animal lover, and a big softie. I can’t even squish insects. I don’t care that they can’t feel pain and don’t experience emotions, I just can’t bring myself to. I make it my mission to save any type of animal I come across. I find toads in our koi pond and immediately pick them out and take them to a safe place. I help turtles across the road. I got a mouse out of a puddle and revived it, releasing it when it was healthy enough. I saw a snail on a piece of wood that was going to be thrown on a fire and carefully pulled it off and put it somewhere else. So far I’ve found 5 stray cats (Piper, Toothless, Felix, Kai, and Kit Kat—all were found as skinny, sickly kittens) and took them in, raising them as my own. I rescued a chipmunk from certain death-by-cat. I’ve even saved a few baby raccoons, ducklings, lizards, spiders, and snakes in my time. And I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live.

I love writing, drawing/sketching, and painting, however I’m not confident that I’m good at any of those things, lmao. I mean, I don’t think I’m the worst, but my finished “works” often leave me unsatisfied with my “skills”. But of course, that won’t stop me from trying to improve!

I’m a maladaptive daydreamer. This can cause issues in some places while helping me out in others. On one hand, it makes doing chores and such kind of difficult. Like one time I had to take care of my dad’s pigeons while he was fixing our shed and one time he pointed out how slow I was with the chores. His words were something along the lines of, “I’m already almost done with what I have to do and you’re still working with the pigeons.” Also, it (and maybe ADHD if I do have it?) made school a nightmare for me. But it’s also helpful because then during church it’s really easy to keep myself occupied while the pastors go on about their Magical Sky Daddy™’s son throwing a tantrum and killing a figtree because it didn’t have any figs and how that story should “challenge” us or something.

The characters in my daydreams are weird, though. They merge and separate with each other to make different characters depending on the situation. Most of them don’t have definite genders. Only a handful of them have names because they’re always merging and separating like some kind of Shadow Clone Masters or something. Stuff like that.

One of my characters is for sure a demi-boy, though, and his name is Kyler.

I brought this up because I was watching The Andy Griffith Show and Andy was giving Opie a lecture on how many poor kids there are in the world and used the ratio “one and a half boys per square mile”. Opie then says that he’s “never seen a half a boy before”. Kyler just sort of pops into (fake) existence, jumps off the couch, and throws his arms in the air while saying, “Half a boy, right here!” I burst out laughing. Thankfully it didn’t seem weird, since my parents started laughing at Opie and thought that I was just laughing at it, too.

Any-who.

If I daydream while I’m standing, I’ll often pace and gesture with my arms while moving my lips. Sometimes I’ll even whisper. If I’m sitting down, I usually fidget a lot (such as pick at my shirt and rub my feet together), stare into space, and move my lips or whisper. My family sometimes ask me, “Why are you whispering?” Or, “What are you grinning about?” And I just shrug because I don’t know how to explain it to them without risking them calling someone to pray over me, lmao. I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to have imaginary friends because that was “evil”. When I was about 7, I told my parents about my imaginary unicorn friend and they gave me a lecture and “prayed over me”. It was embarrassing and awkward for me.

I’m suspicious that I might have ADHD, but don’t have the money to actually get a professional diagnosis. I’m also too scared to ask my parents about it.

Speaking of which, my family and I don’t see eye-to-eye. I mean, they don’t know it because I’m good at hiding it, and they think I agree with mostly everything they do but boy, is it a mess.

You see, they’re evangelical conservative Christians. “LGBTQ+ people are going to hell”, “ThE LeFt ARe eViL AnD ARe TrYiNg To BrAiNwAsh OuR ChiLdrEn”, “Trump was sent by God”, “Intersex is fake”, “Women must submit to men”, “You should get married no later than in a year or ‘the temptation’ to have sex might become too much”, the whole bit.

Meanwhile I’m over here with my (imaginary) pride flags, just existing as an agnostic leftist who wants everyone to have equal rights, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, and would rather redo my horrifically atrocious kindergarten closing program role than pray to a god who (if they/he/she/it/whatever exists) gives cancer to kids and killed millions of innocent animals and people in the Bible.

But they have no idea that this is how I feel and now expect me to be baptized within the next month to show that I have “accepted Jesus Christ as my savior”. Yeah...that’s gonna be an awkward discussion...

Anyway, that’s just some things about me. Sorry that I got sidetracked a few times, lmao!

I look forward to posting more and maybe even making friends!

Thank you for reading (:

[copperbadge]

Dear Sam, I’ve been reading Si Creabis, Fit Redunda for years, and it's become my go-to happy place. This morning tumblr... went funny. (Reformatted itself? Sorry. I'm horribly un-techie.) I use either IE11 or Google Chrome. The top page on both is a pile of links, but on IE posts are now wider than the screen, and a lot of the photos are huge and out of focus, and archive just gets me three jiggly grey squares. Has IE stopped supporting the blog? Regards, H.

Apparently Tumblr’s doing some jiggery-fuckery with layouts right now -- they’re changing a lot of peoples’ layouts based on “suspicious code” they’ve found, so they say, but I suspect they’re just trying to standardize between mobile view and desktop view. While a great many people I know have had their layout nuked from space, mine (an extremely simple layout based on default) was simply converted to mobile view, so what you’re seeing is a version of what people see on their phones. This probably has to do with Wordpress now owning Tumblr.  

I’m not sure why it’s now wider than the screen on IE -- it isn’t that way when I visit it on Edge, but I don’t have IE on my computer so I can’t check it there. Also not sure why the photos are weird or why Archive isn’t working. The three jiggly squares are the “loading” symbol so possibly IE is having trouble loading from Tumblr’s servers, which might also be why the images aren’t working. 

I’ve gone through and truncated the sidebar links, and also applied a new layout. Hopefully that will help. Unfortunately it’s the best of a bad lot; it’s one of the few “free” layouts available that looks remotely like the old one, and it still doesn’t, much. Hopefully it’ll at least be easy on the eyes until you acclimatize, because I don’t think the old layout’s coming back, I’m afraid. 

Let me know what you think, though, by all means, either here or in email at copperbadge at gmail.com. 

[birbsoffeathers]

/// Scroll really far down if you don't want to look at drama related stuff!!! I'm using tumblr mobile so it's hard for me to cut off a post sorry!!!

Man tumblr is more serene compared to the hell that is twitter weird posts here and there but generally safe people to share with

Also people here have better takes than people on twitter who got too close to their parasocial relationship with ccs that when they aren't educated enough on a certain topic, the minorities feel easily betrayed

Like please reevaluate your life if you think it's great/okay that a minor is going through therapy for the weight that has been placed upon his shoulders to know all of the things that offend a minor

"We understand that Tommy's a person that makes mistakes, we just wish that he does better"

Well, he does do better but you haven't given him enough space to grow. It's like you planted a seed and wished that there would be a fruit/flower the next day. You're rushing something that takes time. Tommy might not even have a person that he could reach out to thats really aware of the offensive languages and the things that minorities have to deal with.

Like Boi, speaking with a person about the things that offends minorities regarding the suffering they have experienced and are experiencing is not normal. We're just recently becoming accepting and understanding of people.

We haven't yet gone on an era where homophobes and racists are no more. Offensive things that surrounds minorities are not common knowledge. It's not taught at school. You need someone to tell you about it.

There's a reason I avoid educating about slurs used against lgbtqia+ because I would learn it rather than not know it since English is not my mother tongue. I'll know when it's offensive since slurs are pretty scarce on my timeline and the person will be criticized as soon as they use slurs and I'll have to gg search a new word :P

Most offensive languages are not common knowledge to the privileged or to people not in USA or to people not in major white countries